


Ridin’ the Storm Out

by KichieSPNGirl19



Series: SPN/Dusk series [1]
Category: From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series, Supernatural
Genre: Action, Adventure, Angst, Bromance, Brotherly Love, Drama, Family Angst, Friendship, Horror, Humor, Necromancy, Romance, Supernatural Elements, Vampires, Zombies, culebra, zombie and vampire carnage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2018-11-08 04:21:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 156,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11073966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KichieSPNGirl19/pseuds/KichieSPNGirl19
Summary: While investigating a mysterious brutal killing in Albuquerque, New Mexico; the Winchesters realize they’ve bit off more than they can chew when they cross paths with the Gecko brothers. A set of badass sibling ex-criminals with an unflappable wit to match theirs and take no prisoner’s attitudes; trying to escape a supernatural destiny of their own.Despite an inevitable conflict; Sam and Dean find themselves joining forces with the reluctant Seth and Richie in an attempt to stop Ranger Gary Willet; who as it turns out is a centuries old necromancer of the Circulo Mortis covenant hell bent on jump starting the Apocalypse with the power of deceased demon queen Amaru’s amulet.





	1. Prologue:

**Author's Note:**

> I'm very excited to present my very first Supernatural/From Dusk Till Dawn crossover fanfic. I'm kinda new to writing like this but being a huge fan of these shows I couldn't help getting inspired to bring these two incredible worlds together. I altered a few things and events so this story is a bit of an AU. 
> 
> For instance what took place in SPN 12x23 [and some of season 12] and FDTD 3x10 doesn't apply here but I will explain my version of events as the story goes on. Castiel and Crowley are both still alive. The Gecko brothers never went back to robbing banks with Kate after Amaru. The BMoL are still around. Dean is a bit lighter as the earlier seasons of SPN. And since we never got much of that mysterious ranger Gary Willet character from 3x08 & 3x10 of Dusk; I decided to fill in the blanks with my own interpretation. 
> 
> The title "Ridin' the Storm Out" is an Reo Speedwagon song heard in Supernatural 7x11. This is a very challenging project for me but one I am looking forward to unfolding. Enjoy!

Albuquerque, New Mexico. 1:00 am. 

A rusty blanket of red and dark violet shrouded the sky above a black metallic car pulling into the almost deserted parking lot; dawn not quite peeking through the edge of the earth. Resembling a murky layer of billows swallowed up in angry flames and smoke. Dusk. His favorite part of the evening. The slender figure appeared from out of the vehicle and straightened his black jacket titling his western hat respectively as if he were a cross between a reaper come to collect and an old hombre in a cowboy movie; his boots clicking in a chain rhythm at the heels shuffling across the lot towards a square like building reading: Albuquerque Mortuary.

The air was dragon’s breath hot and humid but perfect October whether. A few street lamps overhead flickered signaling that this stranger brought forth dark intentions. In the distance he could hear the rattling of sleek desert serpents creeping across the dirt in search of unsuspecting prey. But they wouldn’t dare perplex him. The crickets chirped more enthusiastically than usual. It was a comfort to this man. Inhaling deeply he filled his lungs with its crisp sweetness; that ecstasy of danger which gave him life. He was more at home in the nightly hours when everyone else’s worst fears could become a reality.

Reaching for the doors of the entrance he pulled them open and casually strolled inside. At first the place seemed deserted. Perfect. He could make his preparations without being disturbed and tonight couldn’t have come at a better time what with Dia de los Muertos just days away. But then another man randomly popped up from behind a front desk yawning with his plump arms outstretched hovering over his head until instantly locking eyes with him. Just great, now he’d have to find a way to deal with this fool before he ruined everything.  
He was tubby with dark close cut hair, russet skin and the dopey face of an amateur fumbling with the radio on his chest next to the CHARLIE name tag; deer-in-the-headlight gaze barely able to pull off the blue security guard uniform. He was lawful, definitely not intimidating or threatening to look at. The guy would probably cower in fear if he was ever accosted.  
Why the hell does the department hire incompetent chumps like this? The hombre thought to himself. Not that he was complaining at that moment.

It probably would’ve been in the guard’s best interest to assume the man in the hat wasn’t there to socialize. Yet instead of suspicion he was met with a warm naivety. The man in the hat knew the guard as a friendly acquaintance on previous occasions; nothing spectacular just the typical greeting in the evenings and sometimes the morning when he wasn’t on night shift; a leverage that could work to the hombre’s advantage. 

“Oh Ranger Willet!” the guard gulped trying to retain a balance of surprise and levity within his voice; nearly dropping the phone in his left hand.

“Evenin’ Charlie; shiftin’ it up solo for the night I see.” The old hombre was cool and stoic but courteous. His thick southern accent gravelly like a dirt road in Texas; complimenting the raspier tones of his voice giving it more depth and character. Slightly hillbilly but oddly intelligent. Touching the gun at his hip he added, “Ain’t no rest for the righteous.” 

“Yes” the guard replied on the spot. “But…I didn’t realize you were coming in so late. I thought they already did the autopsy.”  
The man in the hat looked at the guard with a jackal’s predatory stare; curving his mouth in a sinister half-moon shape which made his cigarette stained teeth distracting; resting his arm across the counter like he’d been contemplating the fate of the man in front of him. . 

“Yes well I do have a coroner’s report that needs examinin’ for the investigation and just couldn’t wait to get a crack at that.” The guard was taken aback but somehow genuinely not shocked. Great, the old hombre’s charm was working just as he hoped. “After all what’s that old sayin’ now; the early birds…get the worm.”  
The guard nodded grinning at the hombre as he placed the phone back on the hook then picked up his clipboard; inspecting the guest sheet. “Of course. But ah, there’s no one in the mortuary at this time.” the man in the hat’s patience was wearing thin as he tapped his fingers against the surface of the countertop. “No problem, I’ll buzz you on in sir.”

“Thank yer kindly son.” At last he was free. Now all he had to do was make his way through the corridor and obtain a specimen for the spell he’d been conjuring in his mind. But before he made a quick dash he tossed the guard a cheap compliment over his should so as not to draw any attention. “Oh uh Charlie? I’ll be sure to be puttin’ in a good word for you with the ol’ boys at the sheriff’s department about your…unique talents.”

The guard’s face lit up faster than a Christmas tree. You’d think he’d never received a compliment in his life. The old hombre almost felt sorry for the guy.

“Gosh sir that would be great. I uh…I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, your time to shine be comin’ son.” He smirked at the guard; taking a breath mint out of his pocket and popping it into his mouth. “Trust me…I just have a sixth sense for these things. You have yourself a splendid evenin’ now.”

“Same to you sir.” The guard called after the man in the hat. “Oh and be careful. I know our buddies over there don’t have a pulse or nothin’ but…you never know with Dia de los Muertos just around the corner; unless you’re not as superstitious as I am.” 

“Why Charlie, are you sayin’ that you believe in all this afterlife hulabalooie?”

It was a pretentious question but the guard didn’t hesitate to give it to him point blank; pulling out his crucifix from under his shirt. Ah just as the hombre suspected; not that his silly trinket could protect him from the storm brewing ahead.

“The dead are always watching over us. They guide us when we’re lost. Comfort us when we’re sad. Care for us when we’re sick. Love us unconditionally.” Then the guard’s voice dropped, eyes sharpening like twin knives searing into the hombre’s wary sullen gaze; creating a sense of suspense within the last part of his monologue as if he’d rehearsed an episode of the Twilight Zone. “They also judge us if we do evil; and I believe…the dead come back to punish the wicked.”

The old hombre nodded intrigued; stroking his chin intently as he studied the security guard holding the cross tightly. “Is that so?” he hummed.

The silence was vociferous…then a throaty chuckle broke the eerie lack of sound barrier. The security guard was laughing like he’d told the best joke ever. It was infectious to the point that the hombre returned the gesture only he was chuckling more on the inside and it was a whole lot more sadistic.

“Sorry Mr. Willet I’m just teasin’. You know tryin’ to get in the spirit of the upcoming festival.” The guard admitted playfully; shoving the cross back in his uniform and settling into his chair. The hombre’s face was wolfish; watching the young man reach in his pocket and pull out a yellow flyer with sugar skulls dancing around the fine print. “Will you be going this year sir?”

The old ranger in the hat took the flier from the security guard; smirking mischievously like he more than intended to be at that festival but also appear as the main attraction  
.  
“Wouldn’ miss it for the world friend, wouldn’ miss it.” His dry yet baritone southern accent was cryptic answering as he handed the flier back to the security guard who proceeded to scrunch it back into his pant pocket. “So tell me Charlie…being such a…candid person and all, what do you believe about the supernatural?” 

“I believe there is some truth to the afterlife but everyone knows that hoodoo and witchcraft are nothing more than a hokey Hollywood myth.”

“Ah you certain of that friend? Not even…zombies?”

The young and dumb security guard just rolled his eyes at the man in the hat. “Sir I can assure you, dead men don’t walk around.”

With that the hombre’s face animated with a satisfied grimace; turning down the corridor. If only that guard knew what really went bump in the night; probably wouldn’t be so quick to laugh it off. A buzzing noise echoed down the hall signifying the guard had granted the man in the hat access to the mortuary. Finally it was nearly time. 

He vibrantly headed towards the swinging doors and barged his way through unannounced. It was dark inside with the stale metallic scent of blood and rotting flesh. Just his kind of aroma. Stretching his hand out along the wall he felt for a light switch and flicked it on. The room was cold with a greenish tint; full of grey metal walls and surgical equipment topped everywhere. It gave off an otherworldly lifelessness. This is where death resides he thought. 

Before him were five alloy tables laid out like giant cookie sheets; one displaying a stiff hidden under a ghostly white cover. The hombre’s mouth twisted with delight and made his way to the table that caught his attention. Yes the one in the middle was what he wanted. The man in the hat stood for a second before pulling back the sheet then tilted his head as if ardently amused over the way the corpse was positioned. A pleasuring sensation.

The stiff was approximately mid-thirties, brown haired Caucasian though his skin was now a blood-drained oily ashen grey with lavender circles cradling his eye sockets. Probably dead for a few days based on how the rigor mortis was settling. He looked so peaceful in death; as if he were sleeping. Carefully the hombre cupped the chin turning the stiff’s head sideways and leaned in close to examine the obvious gaping wound in his neck.

Just as he suspected. Vampire. Well culebra to be exact. To the odd skeptic scanning this corpse they probably would’ve ruled it out as a rabid dog bite. Culebras were usually good at covering up their kills; the older ones especially. But somehow this killing was different than normal. The bite marks were shallow; bordering on vengeful. And the culebra who made this stiff wasn’t turned that long ago. Whoever did this wasn’t looking to make a meal of this man; it was an intentional execution. The dead man had obviously done something dirty while he was alive to end up on that table. 

“Maximillian,” he snorted disapprovingly under his breath. “Well ain’t you one stupid son of bitch. Going rouge on the Circle then pissin’ off the peacekeeper’s favorite pets. You was bound to wind up six feet under sooner or later friend.”

The old hombre in the hat scowled at the corpse; recognizing him as a former member of his distinct necromancer covenant known as Circulo Mortis or the Circle of Death; which he so fondly often remarked as the “Bad Ol’ Boys Club”. They did some pretty depraved, baneful things in their faction. Harming the innocent. Selling out peacekeepers. Torturing and murdering culebras out in the desert. Sacrificing souls in Queen Amaru’s name to earn their place back in Xibalba. 

The man in the hat and his clique came from a very discrete line of divine occultists from the pits of Xibalba endowed with the ability to manipulate, reanimate and control the dead. Created specifically to keep the souls of hell obedient, the necromancers however soon gave into their addiction to bridging with/absorbing deceased souls; manifesting them into recalcitrant abominations. And after centuries of exile for trying to overtake the underworld; retaliation had been their goal. Where Amaru had failed to accomplish unleashing the gates of Xibalba onto earth, the Circulo Mortis had other plans. 

“You betrayed the code brother. We do not draw attention to ourselves. And that specifically means…do not abuse the powerful inclination of death. There’s a purpose for what we’re doing,” Willet informed the corpse leniently with a hint of irritation as he parked down on the table surface; gripping the title floor under his boots to keep his balance steady. “But tonight…there just may be redemption for you yet son. That I will grant you.” 

The hombre reached into his jacket pocket and removed a shimmering ancient tribal looking bobble with a black stone jewel encrusted in the middle hanging off a silver chain. It was Amaru’s royal amulet; the heart of Xibalba. His undead drones had managed to retrieve from the Queen’s mutilated body just as the legendary brothers and their friends thought they’d successfully closed the gateway. 

There was so much they didn’t know about this little firecracker; the power it truly contained. In the hands of a necromancer it could become the deadliest weapon known to man; increasing one’s dynamism of control and reanimation over the dead. And Ranger Gary Willet had a centuries old agenda to suffice that prized artifact; knew just what he wanted to do with it.  
“Of course you may have to settle for a ‘de-motion,” the old hombre snared as he ran his fingers through the stiff’s hair; stroking it tenderly like it was the head of his own child. “Sorry friend the Circle is a strictly live members only club. That’s just how it is.”

Using an Aztec hunting knife from the pouch around his holster; he anchored the shiny sharp blade over his wrist eyes locking onto the throbbing blue vein and made a deep incision into his skin. Pain pieced him instantaneously like a white hot flash but he blinked it off; drawing blood which he’d drizzled upon the stiff’s partially opened mouth. 

Then suspending the amulet above the corpse’s eye level, Willet began chanting a spell in a long lost language. Resuscitating the stone to life as it began to glow an immersed scarlet tincture; which engulfed the whole room in the same magnanimous ruby radiance. The old hombre smiled devilishly to himself and caressed the corpse’s face with his other hand; giving him a nudge.

“Wakey wakey brother. You ain’t gon’ be in purgatory no more. It’s mission time for you son. No more slackin’ about on this oversized muffin rack. We much have work to do.”

The lights above him flickered followed by a slight turbulence knocking the man in the hat off the table. He closed his eyes drinking in the seductive sensation of power as his necromancer core forged an infinite bond with the corpse. Perceiving the deceased soul of his fallen comrade engross him; boiling his blood into molten lava. He could feel immense energy pulsing inward the lifeless meat suit under the wan cloak. There was thunder shaking the whole building around him; jouncing the stiff. It lasted for a good minute before a disturbing silence drowned it all out; which would only sooth the most deranged of souls. 

Frankenstein was giving his creation life. The hombre cackled in his throat as he waited. Watching. And then its hand hungrily jerked up; garishly cracking the finger joints out of its rigors state…  
________________________________________

“What the hell!” Charlie the security guard snapped up from his seat dropping the UFC magazine he’d been looking at. He didn’t scare very easily but that turbulence a second ago did not bode right. The weather guy never mentioned anything about an earth tremor happening later that evening. “Hello!” he called out getting no response.

Suddenly the power went out; killing the feed to the security cameras. No matter how many times he tried to condition the switch it would not go on. Just what he needed. There was no choice he had to go looking for the fuse box and get it back up. If he didn’t his boss was sure to fry him later. Taking out his trusty flashlight in his belt he flicked it on and headed for the breaker room. CRASH! 

Charlie’s whole body jolted in fear dropping the flashlight to the ground. What the hell was that? He’d never heard anything like that before not even the sonic boom he’d once experience gave him the chills like this. In the distance the loud noise seem to be coming from the mortuary; like something large had fallen a good distance between the floor and one of those operating counters knocking off some expensive tools in the landing. Great probably another mess he had to straighten up.

But just then the security guard realized he hadn’t seen Ranger Willet leave the premises. What if he had an accident and got hurt while puttering around in the coroner’s lab? Quickly he snatched up the flashlight from the floor and hurried around the corridor leading to the morgue’s entrance. Of course he had to open them the old fashioned way using a set of spare keys from around his waist since the power outage. He couldn’t think about that though his main concern was helping the good ranger.

“H-hello!” he called again shaking under the tone of his own voice. “Mr. Willet? Sir are you alright?”

No answer. Guess that means he had to go further into the dark to investigate the indistinct noises. Gripping the flashlight tighter the guard began to feel a slab of sweat pouring from his brow. He rubbed it away and tried to focus but the sound of his frantically beating heart was distracting him. It was quiet. Too quiet and Charlie wasn’t fond of total silence. That’s when your imagination was at its most threatening.

“Ranger Willet? A-are you in here?” he entered the lab past the swinging doors like a timid little boy searching for his parents. Still no reply. But he had to be here. Charlie was certain he didn’t see the ranger leave yet. “Hello?” his voice was breaking apart to the point where it was now hovering above a whisper.

Something ricocheted in the shadows moving through the tray on wheels. The security guard shone his light over to where he’d heard shuffling and came up short. Nothing but pitch black, not even a rodent in sight. Now he was getting more nervous. If the ranger was in here why wasn’t he answering? 

Moving in closer Charlie accidentally bumped into one of the operating tables which had displayed a stiff he’d seen come in late yesterday. The yellow beam from his flashlight was shaking. The security guard hated morgues. And he certainly didn’t like being trapped in the same room with a dead body either. Ever since he was a kid that time he’d been locked in mausoleum on a dare had scarred him for life. He often wondered why the hell did he even bother getting a security job at the morgue being as superstitious as he was?

“Ranger Willet? S-sir? Are you here?”

Again there was no reply. So Charlie instead searched for the contents he’d heard tumble to the floor earlier. Sure enough he found one of the trays on wheels had toppled over spilling surgical tools all over tiles. He sighed with minor relief when nothing seemed to be damaged. Then the shuffling sound followed by a wet grunting noise stopped him dead in his tracks.  
Charlie spun around but saw nothing except more blackness. He couldn’t see two feet in front of his face without that flashlight in hand. His breathing intensified; heart nearly pounding out of his chest and the hairs on the back of his neck started standing on end. Get a damn grip over yourself, he swore in his mind wiping away more sweat.

“Hello is someone there?!” he cried out desperately. 

Charlie did not want to be in that lab any longer than he had to. He just wanted to find the ranger, fix that damn fuse and get the hell back to his post. And just when he thought his anxiety couldn’t go through the roof any more than it was; he’d noticed a white sheet on the ground and the body displayed on one of the five metal tables earlier was missing.

Fuck no. It’s nothing he told himself; don’t panic. Maybe someone moved it earlier. He was certain it had to be a coroner. Bodies don’t just get up and walk away on their own. The security guard swallowed hard struggling to make sense of the situation as his nerves were shot. Something moved in the lab again and this time it was closer than before…in fact he could feel eyes staring holes through him from behind.

“Ranger Willet?”

Slowly spinning around the security guard wasn’t prepared for the grotesque face belonging to a nude figure staring back at him. The cataracts sheen of its eyes sunken in their sockets glowered hungrily as pus-like foam erupted from its mouth. It was if the creature were a wild animal on rabies. When it growled at Charlie there was a gurgling sound coming from the back of its throat. The stench this thing gave off was foul; Charlie’s stomach nearly gave out on the spot with how terrified he was at that second. And that’s when he noticed the thing’s chest cavity.

It was stitched up from neck to torso the same as any other stiff he’d seen from an autopsy. This man was dead. DEAD.

He was dead and walking around. It was impossible this couldn’t be real. The security guard tripped over himself unable to contain the mortified shrieking sounds coming from his own mouth just as the creature lunged right at him in lightning speed; tacking him to the floor with impressive force. The screaming doubled in volume as Charlie felt rotten teeth savagely ripping at his clothes and flesh to shreds; decomposing fingers clawing into his abdomen for fresh internal organs. 

It was successful. In no time those hands were pulling out Charlie’s entrails splattering the tile in thick glops. Blood pooled out on the floor around them; spraying the walls and the white sheet lying close by. The security guard could feel his life slipping away as his excruciating screams mingled with a sequence of chokes and gurgles; vomiting up his own blood before his eyes rolled back in his skull passing out the moment he felt those savage jaws on his throat.


	2. Chapter 1

Lebanon, Kansas

Dean Winchester puttered around the Men of Letters kitchen in room 23; like a content chef/hunter fixing him and his family a classic pancakes and animal protein feast he’d dubbed “breakfast of champions”. Aside from hunting evil things with his brother, and hanging out in the garage tuning up Baby; his favorite pass time seemed to be brushing up on his culinary skills. Mostly he did it to impress Sam who wasn’t really that easy to crack; although secretly he delighted over his brother’s cooking.

And their mother Mary was pretty ardently appreciative of Dean’s talents for conceiving delectable edibles. More so ever since admitting she wasn’t the renowned chef the older Winchester brother was led to believe. So as far as she was concerned her son was free to go to town in that kitchen.

Being on the road for so many years the rugged mid-thirties hunter never really had a place to call home or had a reason to use a stove and an oven. In fact the Winchesters never had use for those kinds of things because they didn’t have them or owned furniture. They were always squatting in rundown motels and abandoned buildings right out of a Hitchcock flick. Was it any wonder he took advantage of domestication?

Everything they ate was usually the cheap crap from a fast-food burger joint or the odd gas pump they stopped at for road munchies. Unhealthy yes but it satisfied Dean’s cravings. His kryptonite food of choice was and will forever be pie. Sam couldn’t budge him off that damn sugar induced pastry if his life depended on it. No matter how many times his brother would criticise his poor dietary; taunt him with threats of becoming a blimp if he kept packing that shit away Dean would just laugh it off engaging in his free-spirited gluttonies. Besides he made sure to stay in shape. 

He might’ve eaten like a basement slacker but he was built solid as a rock. Yep no excessive fat penetrating these finely chiselled abs. Abs that seem to even annoy Sam who felt he had to work twice as hard to cleanse himself after consuming all those defective chemicals. 

Flipping over another hotcake, the hunter felt a twinge of thirst and he hustled over to the fridge to find his partially full jug of orange juice. Sam hated it when he drank it straight from the bottle calling it unsanitary among other things. However when it came down to picking his battles; he was just relieve his brother was drinking something either than alcohol. Dean didn’t sustain the thought as he unscrewed the cap taking a long quenching swig. 

It was kinda nice doing things at his own pace instead of rushing off to be somewhere else. 

Hunting these days was also pretty slim pickings what with the douche-bag British Men of Letters running amok; forcing all the American hunters to fall under the radar while they took over. Their methods to taking out evil were already ambiguous even extreme what with how they’d previously captured and tortured Sam for days in a cellar. Even the Winchesters’ familiar bond was tested when it came to these freaks. Yet the moment they stumbled inside headquarters the secret the Tea Drinking brigade’s true agenda became apparent. Spying on them all like sketchy Big Brother gone AWOL.

Hunters themselves had become prime targets along with the monsters they slew. There was no in-between with these people as they felt hunters were a means to an end. The Winchesters and many of their friends and allies made the list of people that had to be removed from the equation. Sam and Dean would deal with them in time but for now it seemed as though their wicked European counterparts had found some business outside the states to keep them preoccupied; at least for a while. Good. He wasn’t in the mood to tango with them this week.  
As he sucked in the delicious aroma of the hotcakes, stomach growling from hunger promenading back to tend to the stove; Dean couldn’t help yearning for a decent spot of action. He needed a distraction from all the drama previously with his mother and the Brits. He was just itching for another round of kicking Hell’s ass; Crowley if he could. 

It just didn’t feel right taking a day off when someone out there might’ve needed his help. Just as he picked up the spatula to impel the crisp bacon and sausage in the pan Dean’s cell went off; ringing Guns N’ Roses’ cover of Sympathy for the Devil. Finally a ballgame.

He picked it up and put it to his ear. “Hey what’s up?” he answered in his deep gruff but pleasant tone; expectant of Sheriff’ Jodie Mills to respond with a new case.

“You’ve been Garth-ed. That’s what up.” it was a recognizable male voice on the other end. A voice Dean never thought he’d hear from. But no matter how many years passed there was no mistaking that cordial yet childlike, mellow swag wrapped in a light southern accent. “Hey man, how’ve you been?”

“Garth?” Dean’s face animated a cheeky expression trying to make sense of the randomness this was.

“The one and only.” chided the chilled yet spunky voice.

“Well this is a surprise. I was beginning to think we weren’t on the same planet anymore. The hell have you been?”

The line went silent for a second then Garth’s voice came back to life. Only this time he sounded a little apologetic. “I know my timing sucks…didn’ catch you guys at a bad time did I?”  
Dean put down his spatula and scratched his eye brow; creasing his lips. “Nah I was just…flipping flapjacks. It’s good to hear from you man.” The hunter slapped his thigh, pacing around the kitchen eagerly as if to keep his OCD in check. Not that he had OCD. “But ah…I’m sorta caught in a continuum trying to get over the initial shock of not hearing from you after what…three years?”

“Yah sorry about that.” Garth’s guilt was obvious. Dean hadn’t intended for his friend to feel awkward about the time gap but it was an inevitable topic. “Guess I got caught up in my lycanthrope ventures. But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t thinkin’ of you or Sam and everybody else.”

Dean nodded patiently reflecting back on his first encounter with Garth Fitzgerald IV six years ago. Now that was an unforgettable image. Sitting in the diner so innocently; drinking his shake and reading funnies in the newspaper. You’d think fighting for his life from things in the dark that wanted to eat him would’ve hardened his attitude or damped his spirits. Or at least made him paranoid. Not Garth. He was something out of the ordinary. In fact it astounded Dean the amount of lives this guy had considering how bumbling and frail he was. Nine lives like a cat.  
While Sam was off playing Stepford Wives with Becky Rosen; the annoying chic with an unhinged obsession for Sam thanks to those damn SUPERNATURAL books who’d basically used some kind of roofie spell to make him temporarily marry her. Dean was forced take on a hunters’ temp in his brother’s absence; little did he realize how fond he’d become of the unusual but endearing hunter with an easy-going stride.

At first glance the Winchester would’ve never pictured this scrawny pale dude with puppy dog eyes as a fellow defender of the innocent. His blundering usually resulted in many nearly fatal close calls. Yet somehow he’d made use of his shortcomings when it came to the job. What he lacked in ruthlessness or fighting skills he more than made up for in his courageousness, his goofy sense of humor and later his impressive knowledge for all things that go bump in the night. 

Ironically back then Garth hadn’t really made an impactful impression on the robust hunter when he’d called him up that same year for help with hunting some Japanese alcohol spirit. However after that Garth started to grow on the Winchesters and they even found themselves appreciating his old-school b-boy style, uniquely funk inspired disguises/aliases, and even his love for 80s/early nineties hip-hop. And yes that stupid sock puppet of Garth’s managed to make the list of adorable qualities. 

They forged a friendship over time working together to take down other supernatural nasties like the vengeful Civil War spirit which had possessed Dean and protecting Kevin Tran at his safe houseboat along with the demon tablet. Garth eventually earned Bobby’s mantel as lead hunter much to Dean’s disapproval at first subsequently following the old man’s sudden death. It was a title that Garth would exceed at for a micro-second.

One werewolf bite later the scrawny adorable hunter found himself living in monster retirement; happily married to his blond wolf beauty Bess. Despite how fulfilled he seemed with his new life, that hunter’s blood was still circulating in his veins. Garth insisted he return to the job in hopes of redeeming himself for not preventing Kevin’s murder; proclaiming that his werewolf mojo would provide the advantage for the team of good-guys but Dean had stopped him. Told his friend he was better off chasing his dream of marital bliss rather than risking his life any further. 

So they hugged their goodbyes and went their separate ways.

It was a decision that had become a little daunting for Dean over the years not having the guy around to spout off his infamous “you’ve been Garth-ed” one-liner as his opening response over the phone or after ganking monsters. And then there was his ridiculous attempt at Bobby’s “idjit” word. He’d kinda missed it all. Cool as it was to hear from him again Dean was very skeptical about Garth’s timing.

“I heard the British invasion was trespassin’ on our turf.” The ex-hunter werewolf sputtered briskly with tension in his voice. “Targetin’ us like some kind of high-tech James Bond superspies. Remind me to dismantle my microwave later.”  
Dean rolled his eyes pinching the bridge of his nose feeling a typical pun coming on. “Yah less 007 and more Supernanny in snakeskin only they ain’t looking to host us cool kids with crumpets and croquet.” 

“Damn who put the shizzel in their tea?”

“I don’t know what the hell you just said Garth but I’m strangely inclined to agree with you on that.” Dean bellowed shutting off the stove under the crackling frying pan; fixing up three plates for him and his family. Multi-tasking. He’d learned to master it. “So what brought on this conspicuous timed phone call after a three year break in between ruffling up some fur with the Mrs.?”

Garth ignored the hunter’s inappropriate werewolf innuendo and got to the point. “Oh dude this ain’t a social call. I’ve got a job for you and Sam that I think you might want to check out.”  
Dean crinkled his eyes shut taken aback as if he’d smelt something sour; letting the irresponsibility of that sentence sink in. Did he hear that correctly? “Come again? A job? Seriously Garth I thought you retired from that. What happened to laying low?”

“Sorta fell back into it again when I heard thoes Red Coat wannabes were looking to gank my family,” there was an abnormal flare of anger in Garth’s voice that Dean wasn’t used to hearing when he said this. “And I couldn’ just bail out on you guys Dean, not when hell is literally breakin’ loose.”

“So you heard about ol’ Lucy’s stint of playing Big Daddy huh? God it’s like a freaking episode of the Maury show.”

“Word got around over here in Wisconsin about the new inferno bundle of joy upon us since I kinda kept my ear to the ground.”

Dean let out an infuriating sigh. He’d told Garth to specifically stay out of dodge now that those infested tea drinking dictators were threatening to pull the plug on all monsters and American hunters. What the hell was he thinking getting himself involved in this crap? It was reckless and stupid.

“Damnit Garth what the hell happened to falling under the radar?! Dean was practically channeling an uptight father lecturing his child for sneaking out after hours. “You know those British bitches won’t hesitate to mount you on their wall like a friggin hunting trophy. Do I have to come over there and kick your ass or is Bess doing the honors? What does she think about you jumping back into your EXTRA extracurricular activities?”

“Actually she was the one who convinced me to come back,” Garth admitted strikingly into Dean’s ear. The line went still and the werewolf’s voice was somber. “I was happy Dean…at first. I mean for the longest time I never imagined feelin’ like this. I love ma family so much, got three little rugrats of my own now; don’t regret how it all turned out not for a second… But I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about what happened to Kevin and it got to me. Started affectin’ ma marriage, ma work; I was so guilt ridden and angry, drinkin’ all the time takin’ it out on my old lady. I even had a close call with a heavily intoxicated civilian which for the record I did not start that fight with.”

Dean nodded understandably as his cheeks throbbed; absorbing the information one piece at a time but then his mood shifted to burden when Garth mentioned getting into a bar fight. “You didn’t…” 

“What kill him? No he’s alive to skunk himself another day.” Uh that was a relief. But it was almost as if the werewolf took offense to his friend’s insinuation. “The point is I didn’t like who I was becomin’ Dean. I’m not a monster but I’m not a coward either. I’m still a hunter in ma soul. I didn’t pick up the slack for Bobby just to throw it away. Which is why Bess gave me the ultimatum when I first learned about our new pals at Watchtower; either lose her or go back to doin’ what I’m supposed to be doin’.” 

Dean had never imagined Garth would turn out so capricious; then again the years of being a werewolf were bound to change his good-natured demeanor somewhat. “This is our métier Dean. No matter how much any of us try to deny it. The job part of who we are…besides,” he added cleverly, “What good is all this preternatural mojo if I can’t do nothin’ constructive with it?”

Okay if he had to play the martyr the hunter may as well indulge him. At least he wasn’t hurting innocent people. Hunting gave the guy a purpose that Dean could empathize with and in some weird twisted way it seemed to keep Garth sane as opposed to the unhealthy daily drama it prompt on the Winchesters.  
“Alright, alright enough soap opera crap,” Dean hustled his friend along restlessly; refrain from beating around the bush more than he was doing. “What do ya got?”  
“It’s in Albuquerque, New Mexico. A security guard was torn to shreds at a mortuary.” There was almost a hint of peculiar ardor as he was saying this. What a dork the hunter mused silently. “I’m thinking…zombies.”  
________________________________________

Sam Winchester groggily robbed at his five o-clock shadow mug in between punching keys at his lap top in the Men of Letters main hall next to the library and the War Room. Lately he’d been consumed with finding an angle to take down the British Men of Letters organization ever since they dared to mess with his family and targeted them for extermination. There had to be some way to abstract these assholes before their maniacal agenda harmed anymore people. It was pretty clear from the jump that Sam’s brother Dean chastised of BMoL’s strategies.

In their own absurd reality monsters and hunters meant one and the same thing to these people. And in order to establish their “Monster free” utopia the Poppins brigade were propelled to eliminate all threats necessary. So the Winchesters had to remain smart and persistent while remaining one step ahead of them; adjuvant they’d learn their weaknesses. 

Mary Winchester sat opposite of Sam at the table; preoccupied reading more entries of John Winchester’s journal curling her fingers around strands of her short blond hair. Occasionally he’d curiously glance over to see what she was doing; there were days where Sam had to pinch himself to make sure none of this was a dream, that she wasn’t some phantom grief had concocted and that she was really sitting there across from him. Breathing. Heart beating. Alive. Ingesting all the ventures John had chronicled in her absence.

Sam figured that beat up old manual documenting his father’s life as a hunter was the only thing besides Mary’s wedding ring keeping her truly connected to John. Then there was him and Dean which for the most part hinted Mary’s interminable pain. He saw it every time he looked in her haunted eyes; that impending loss of something she couldn’t get back. Sam almost had to blink away how much it hurt though it didn’t affect him as much as it did Dean who already had abandonment issues. 

It was what prompted Sam to give the journal to Mary when she officially moved into the bunker with the brothers. He wanted her to have an essential part of John to hold close to her heart; despite the ache it consistently might’ve given her as it had her sons. After being guided by their father’s words for so many years it felt right to pass it on to Mary. Sam perceived his mother’s discomfort after having missed three decades being alive then resurrected back on earth. She was a fish out of water but still a straight shooter and a quick learner; not so techno-illiterate either.

It was a quiet atmosphere, kinda awkward but nice company for both of them as they patiently waited for Dean to rustle them up some grub from the kitchen before a new case fell on their laps. 

“Suit up Robin it’s the bat-signal we gotta case!” Speak of the devil. Dean Winchester popped up from the downstairs carrying three plates of food which he zealously placed in front of Sam and Mary. “Garth just gave me the skinny so hurry and scarf that down.”

“Garth?!” Sam was perplexed; repeating the antonym of the ex-hunter. Now there was a name he didn’t anticipate his brother to drop with regards to hunting. “I thought he was retired you know…cause of the whole werewolf thing. And didn’t you warn him about the British Men of Letters keeping tabs on him?”

Dean’s gassy infant expression surfaced and he vigorously updated his brother and mother. “Yah ah long story short, Garth’s hunting again. Retirement wasn’t really working out.”  
“Why?”

Dean shrugged. “Trouble in paradise I guess. So Bess basically Oprah-ed him.” This earned him a WTF expression from Sam as he watched his brother casually plop down at the next table shoveling pancake into his mouth. “Oh and in other news he’s got his own monster Brady Bunch now.”

“Garth’s a dad… Wow!” Sam trailed off beguiled. “Who would’ve thought huh?”

“I’m guessing that means Mr. Fizzles is working overtime.”

Mary on the hand was in the midst of processing all this information; some of it looked as though it went over her head. But there was something she did pick up on.

“Garth…wait isn’t that the name of your friend’s picture I saw on the British Men of Letters monitor?” Mary inquisitively affirmed at Dean. “The one of many hunters they were targeting?”

“Yep one and the same.” Dean applied mouthful.

“So he’s a werewolf?” Mary Winchester threw her sons an apparent expression as if the whole thing sounded otherworldly. Then again nothing about their family was exactly normal given their trade. “And a hunter?”

“Actually he was a hunter originally who was turned into a werewolf.” Sam corrected his mother’s dossier. She cocked an eyebrow at him; intrigued. “Dean and I worked a couple cases in the past with the guy.” He reminisced images of the goofy hunter implanted firmly in his mind. Every one monumental; right down to the certitude that having just one beer would leave him hammered. “He’s a little odd but cool…for Garth. He sorta unofficially became…the new Bobby before he was turned.” 

Mary was fascinated though neither Sam nor Dean could figure out why. There were exceptions. They’d learned a thing or two that not all monsters were evil bloodthirsty fiends; case in point vampire Benny. Then there was another werewolf Kate. Bobby-John the infant shapeshifter; but that probably didn’t count since the alpha came and took him back. Even Bobby wasn’t entirely full-poltergeist; his humanity remained intact to the very end when asked the brothers to release his spirit and give him peace. Of course after burning Bobby’s flask they had to retrieve the old man out of Hell thanks to Crowley’s grudge on the Winchesters. 

Sam and Dean had in the past witnessed their fair share of psychopathic hunters before the British Men of Letters entered the picture. First there was Gordon Walker; obsessed with torturing vampires before killing them even if they didn’t attack innocent people. Eventually his bloodlust manifested into revenge on the Winchester until finally succumbing to the thing he hated most. Then there was Martin Creaser; classic mental case who was one loose screw short of insanity. Sam had foolishly teamed up with him a while back to track down Benny; insisting he was killing again. Only to find out another vamp was responsible. That however didn’t matter to Martin; initiating an altercation with Benny which led to his untimely death.

“So what’s the case?” Sam pondered exchanging looks with Dean; meal halfway devoured. His brother’s cooking was fantastic. A thought that was often discrete.

“Well apparently something was chowing down on a guard last night at a mortuary in Albuquerque.” Dean chimed sharply; ushering Sam to research the incident back on his laptop. Then he skipped to the graphic details which really got him enthusiastic. “Bitch went The Thing on his ass; chewed em’ up like a dog-toy.” Mary’s face was appalled dropping the bacon she’d been eating in her hand while Sam swallowed the urge to vomit up his food. But his brother wasn’t finished. “It also painted the floor with his entrails. Dude I thought Dahmer had issues.”

Sam brought up his hand to shush his brother; surfing the web to find the source of Garth’s information. “Ah Dean we get it.” He scoffed. “The security guard was mauled. You don’t have to sound so excited about it.”

“Sam, Sammy this son-of-a-bitch was torn apart in a freaking morgue. And there was a body missing from one of the autopsy tables which was supposedly there at the time he was Hamburger Helper-ed. Tell me that doesn’t scream Walking Dead to you.”

“Or…it could just be something else entirely; maybe a shapeshifter or a ghoul.” Sam suggested dubiously. “We’ve seen evidence of ghouls going rogue in the past and eating the living. Remember what happened to Adam and his mother? And even if it was zombies, you know they don’t eat human flesh, Dean.”  
His older brother wasn’t having it. “Hey I’ve seen my fair share of ghouls okay Sam and they don’t kill like that. This bastard puts rugarus to shame. It ripped him open like a Kinder Surprise; only instead of chocolatey goodness it got the gooey gut supreme.”

The younger yet taller Winchester ignored his disgust over that affinity bringing up a link to the photos of the attack; sure enough they were even more gruesome than Dean’s brief but overwhelmingly gross description. His browns eyes instantaneously were ingurgitating the article and police reports; like a human supercomputer. He’d never seen anything like this. Well he’d seen enough dead bodies to last a lifetime. Mutilated and shredded to bits but not savageness of this onslaught. Dean was right about one thing it didn’t look ghoul oriented.

“Whoa, okay that does not look like a ghoul attack.” Sam confirmed nervously. 

“Told ya,” Dean smartly slapped his brother’s broad shoulder. 

“What is it?” Mary asked hustling over to her sons; peeking at the laptop from behind them. 

“I’m not sure.” Sam began to read the guard’s personal information off the screen. “His name was Charles Romero, twenty-eight, lived in Albuquerque all his life, never married and he worked security detail at the mortuary for four years.” So nothing useful here thought the younger Winchester brother; and he read on. “Says here Charles was also known to be pretty religious. I mean he was clean; no records of any kind.”

“So the dude was a model citizen until something put on the menu. Damn that sucks.” Dean goaded scratching his hair.  
Then Sam looked at the date and time stamp of the article. October 29th, 2017. What was the significance of this killing? He thought. “Hey check this out.” Sam zeroed in on a bloody yellow flyer from the file labeled evidence which must’ve fallen from the guard’s pocket for the annual Dia de los Muertos festival in Albuquerque.  
Dean on que read it out loud spontaneously.

“Dia de los Muertos?” Sam and Mary exchanged astonished looks at the way Dean so accurately pronounced that sentence. You’d think he’d been studying Spanish for many years the way those authentic foreign syllables bounced off his tongue with ease. Guess his years of experience in reading dead languages to exercise demons came in handy. “Yah I may be a little rusty on my Spanish,” the older Winchester brother conceded crossing his arms, “But I’m fairly certain that means Day of the Dead.”

“Yes it’s the name of a famous Mesoamerican holiday originated from Mexico,” Sam added in geek-mode; retrospection his knowledge with the perception of an encyclopedia. “Celebrated particularly throughout the central and south regions for several weeks in October and November but traditionally celebrated between October 31st and November 2nd. The multi-day holiday focuses on the gathering of family and friends to celebrate loved ones who’ve passed on by building ofrendas.” 

Dean’s face contorted dumbfounded; wrinkling his handsome freckled stubble mug appearing as though Sam’s last sentence escaped him. “Off-what?”

“Ofrendas,” Sam repeated intellectually pulling up his files on Day of the Dead, glancing at his brother next to him. “You know, those offering alters in cemeteries.” He then pointed to the yellow flower on the screen. “Cempazuchitl are marigolds that symbolize death. The flower’s petals are used to make a trail so that the spirits can see the path to their altars. And sugar skulls are placed at these alters along with offerings of pan de Muertos.”

“English Sam please.” Dean scoffed irritably; gesturing for his brother to get to the point.

“Bread.”

“Oh, anything else?”

“Well according to the Mesoamerican lore many believe that the souls of deceased loved ones return from the grave during Day of the Dead; literally. Except think more along the lines of the Charlie St. Cloud ordeal and less Pet Cemetery.”

A disappointed frown spread across Dean’s grimacing glare and Sam knew what was coming next. Mockery. He was going to tease him for watching a chic flick again. Hey everyone had their guilty pleasures. Sam just happened to have the embarrassing kind according to Dean. 

“Charlie St. Cloud, really Sam?” his older brother sounded mortified. Anyone would’ve assumed by the antagonizing tone of Dean’s voice that Sam’s own unique hobbies were founded in loser-ville. “You actually watched that Efron crap?”

Judging by the younger Winchester brother’s guilt-ridden expression plastered all over his beat-red face he didn’t need a verbal response. Leave it to Dean to cipher out a meaningless analogy that seemed to matter the most to him from a crucial body of information. And he always did it intentionally bug him; although half the time it was like Dean couldn’t believe how much of a dork Sam could be. Then again there was his sappy taste in music.

“Hey I only saw it because mom wanted to watch it on Netflix okay.” Sam shot his hands up in the air submissively. Wait a go Sammy, he thought, throwing your own mother under the bus just to escape your brother’s taunts. Real mature.

Sam and Dean in synchronization turned to Mary who looked like a busted criminal under a spot light. There was no way she wanted to be in the middle of this.

“Don’t look at me, I thought it was awful,” she shrugged with her deer-in-the-headlight gaze. Then her disposition hardened and her voice became more business-like putting her hands on her hips authority. “And anyways shouldn’t we be focused on more pressing issues; like what the hell killed that man? Or why? If it’s not a ghoul, rugaru or shapeshifter than what is it?”

“Mom’s right,” Dean acknowledged Mary; changing the subject back to finding out what ate Charlie-boy the security guard. “We should be hitting the road investigating this case not standing around wasting time arguing like a couple of asshats about a chic flick.” 

Sam agreed through his typical head-tick brought on by discomfort; closing his laptop to pack away in his messenger bag for the trip while Dean started shoving weapons into their duffles. Oddly enough Mary didn’t seem to follow their routine which the brothers noticed immediately. 

“Mom, aren’t you coming?” Sam asked her inquiringly.

“You boys go on ahead without me on this one.” She told him; caressing the cover of John’s journal still lying on the table. “I need to take care of some things around here.”

“You sure?” Dean said concerned. “We can wait for you if you need time.”

Not that she couldn’t handle herself; Sam and Dean knew what she was capable of. But that didn’t stop either of them from feeling overprotective, weary of her safety or worried about her feelings on being back in the world when it had come to affect her emotionally. She was their mother; the most important person in their lives next their favorite guardian angel Castiel of course.

“No you go on,” Mary put on a brave smile; flickering her hand at her sons; presenting her cell to the boys, “Go be heroes. Besides I’m only a phone call away if you need me.”  
Neither one of the Winchester brothers dared to argue with her decision. She’d earned a right to a break from all the craziness with the BMoL.

“Okay then, Sammy let’s get a move on.” Dean ushered at his shaggy haired younger, much taller brother. Then he turned to his mother and circled his arms around her. He just wanted to hold her for as long as possible; assure himself that he would return to her alive. “We’ll see ya later mom.”

“Be careful out there Dean.” Mary said brushing her hair behind her ear. 

He disengaged himself grabbing the two duffles on the table then headed up the spiral staircase leading out to the bunker garage where his baby was resting. Sam followed suit hugging Mary before making a dash for it with the bag consisting of his laptop.

“Take care of yourself mom,” he told her gently; giving the blond woman an awkward somber lipped puppy-eyed grin. “We’ll be back soon. Keep your phone on you in case something comes up.”

“I will; you and your brother…you watch your backs out there.”

He nodded indistinctly and shuffled after Dean waiting in the impala. Once he climbed inside the shiny black car and shut the door, his brother had a sly random expression on his face as he turned on the ignition. It was making Sam uncomfortable. He looked like Doctor Evil.

“What?” Sam asked.

“Nothing,” he bemused, “just that I hear the food in Albuquerque is friggin awesome.”

Sam sighed giving his brother the sink eye. “Dean don’t you ever think about anything else besides your stomach?”

The older Winchester took a second to think it over. Instantly Dean was spouting a list of things off the top of his head. “You. Mom. Cass. Baby. Sex. Women. My guns…”

“Okay! Okay point taken! Just drive.”  
________________________________________

Sam and Dean arrived in Albuquerque New Mexico that afternoon pulling into the Sunset Motel lot, just as the sun was striding along the horizon. The air was humid yet damp roughly irritable, much like their failed attempt to convince their estranged mother to tag along on the hunt with them. She’d been the prime topic of discussion for the brothers the entire car ride over. And while Sam was more open to share about his concerns on how Mary was coping, Dean tried his best to remain Switzerland. He’d pushed her away once he couldn’t do it again. No matter how much her distance bothered him.

Dean had told Sam before since their mother’s resurrection, “We can’t help her unless she wants our help.” This seemed to internally torment the older Winchester brother more than he imagined. He tried his best to never let on to Sam of his mixed feelings about Mary’s presence their lives. After their intense family conversation with their mother prior to her leaving then secretly joining the British douchebags, he thought he could bury it. But he couldn’t. As it turned out both brothers were determined to figure out what was going on with her.

“Alright let’s boogie,” the older Winchester announced turning off the ignition, “We’ll set up camp here then head down to the mortuary and get a better look at Charlie-boy.”

Sam shook his head in agreement but just as he was about to pop open the door he paused. Turning back to his brother he could see Dean wasn’t anywhere close to undoing his seatbelt. Perhaps he was waiting for Sam to get something off his chest as he’d been doing the past several hours.

“Hey Dean? Do you think she’ll be okay?”

He knew this was coming. And it was a sore subject. One he himself wasn’t sure he had an answer to. Dean couldn’t think of doing anything else but switching sallow glances between his brother and the windshield of the impala.

“Honestly…I don’t know Sammy. I hope so. Look whatever mom’s going through…she needs to sort it out on her own.”

“It’s just that sometimes I can’t help wondering…if we cause her more pain than we help her…you know.” Sam’s visible grief had his gaze drowning in melancholy. “…that just being around us…is hurting her.”

Dean’s expression was drained of hopelessness. He couldn’t allow himself to sink that further in the dark. And he wasn’t much good at offering words of comfort or optimism either. Best thing for him to do was heed Frank’s advice of smiling through the storm. Much as he cherished his brotherly chats with Sam they had work to do. He couldn’t afford to let their issues with Mary affect their hunting. 

“Well like it’s like I said, she’s been through some crap that even we don’t understand. All we can do is give her space and offer our support.” 

“What don’t we understand?” Sam exclaimed taking Dean by surprise. “Dying? Pain? Loss? Cause Dean, last time I checked you and I are kinda the poster boys for daytime soap operas. There should be a record for the amount of times we’ve made deals to save each other’s asses.”

Dean undid his seat-belt and climbed through the threshold of the creaky door shutting it the same time as Sam. He couldn’t argue there. The Winchester’s had been on death’s door so many times both had lost count. The reaper was probably getting anxious.

“Yah they should call it the Hunter and the Restless.” Dean jested; slapping his brother’s shoulder playfully attempting to pull Sam out of his funk. “We give new meaning to the word complicated Sammy. But you know what that’s how we role. In the mean time we have ourselves an evil bitch to gank.”

Sam’s brown eyes were glazed but he quickly wiped them before his brother noticed. “You’re right, the case,” he injected; getting ahold of himself. “Hopefully we’ll have a better idea of what we’re dealing with once we examine the body up-close.” 

“I still say its zombies.” The older Winchester tossed at Sam confidently as they shuffled over to the motel’s main office for check in.

“You want it to be zombies Dean. You’re been dying to live out your George A. Romero fantasies since dad took you to that midnight screening of the original Night of the Living Dead.” 

“Hey its one shot to the head, how hard is it? Sam I’ll I’m saying is if we were sittin’ in Zombieland tomorrow, I’d be Tallahassee-ing in this bitch.” 

Sam shook his head securitizing his older brother. Sometimes he didn’t know what to make of him. “Dean if zombies were actually like the ones depicted in Hollywood films no one would probably make it out alive.”

Dean shot his brother a pouty expression as if to say; thanks for ruining my fun party pooper. Sam ignored him and just as he was about to grab the door to the office he didn’t anticipate another man about his brother’s height emerged from the very same entrance; bumping into his shoulder like a bull in a Chyna shop. The sudden contact startled Sam as he apologetically spun around to face the ignorant culprit. He couldn’t believe how intentional that was. For a second Sam felt like that nerdy kid back in school again getting slammed into the lockers by the bully; it was humiliating.

“Whoa watch it there Lou Ferrigno!” barked the young dark haired man; wearing a funeral-ish black suit. Midnight eyes strewing through Sam like hot coals on a barbeque. He was tanned with unshaven 2 0’ clock shadow on his face; about mid to late twenties, medium build similar to Dean sporting a black flame tattoo peeking out from under his white collar going up the right side of his neck.

This kid had the desperado Italian gangster thing going on. A typical bad boy found in those silly women’s romance novels. And judging by his impolite juvenile rudeness Sam went out on a limb thinking this guy had a serious attitude problem. Even more so than his brother half the time. Still Sam couldn’t help but sense the young man was obviously frustrated about something. It was in his best nature to let the incident slide.

“S-Sorry,” he bleated trying to gather himself; hoping things wouldn’t escalate. There was no telling what the black suit guy was capable of; clearly didn’t look like a pushover evident of the cut healing above his eyebrow probably received during a fight not too long ago. And based on the tattoo alone Sam figured him for a hellion in his youth.

“Hey Sammy you coming?” Dean called out from behind the entrance door. He’d been wondering what the heck was holding up the taller Winchester; who stood there completely dumbstruck watching as the moody dark haired guy in the suit arrogantly stalked away in a huff like Sam’s apology hadn’t fazed him. It was almost insulting.

But there was something off-putting about that guy; something the Winchester couldn’t quite put his finger on. Sam and Dean had always been good at assuming a person’s character and detecting if they’d done something wrong. And the black suited gangster kid was definitely raising all kinds of red flags.

________________________________________

Richie Gecko sat spaced out on the bed in motel with the light of the television reflecting back in his black horned-rimmed glasses; mind not nearly as invested in the selected Natural Geographic program compared to the worn notebook in his hands. His cell phone was placed next to him reading the number of times he’d unsuccessfully dialed the Peacekeeper’s number. But after going at it for a decent twenty minutes, Richie didn’t feel like stressing himself over the guy much longer when he and his brother had bigger fish to fry. Still it would’ve been nice if the good ranger Gonzalez would’ve been there to offer the Geckos a helping hand in disposing of that body better before the local police in Albuquerque got their hands on it.

It had been five months since the battle with Amaru and five days since Seth and Richie were on the hunt for Kate and Scott Fullers’ abductors. They were exhausted, angry and bitter to the point where they were taking it out on each other. And the only lead they had was that dude Maximillian Cross whom the younger but taller Gecko swapped blood with to retain information on their whereabouts. A trick he’d acquired since being turned into a culebra; or a snake-like vampire. Only he ended up seeing more than he anticipated as his mind had been overflowing with images of Cross’s brutal conquests for the last one hundred twenty hours. 

Richie had also been haunted by symbols since he read Cross’s soul; a certain shape kept taunting him. Every time he shut his eyes some kind of a rare unfinished black circle resembling very closely to the Greek alphabet omega sign flashed like a phantom in the rim of his mind. He’d read once that the omega letter symbolized the end, the final, last or ultimate in a sequence. This unfinished black circle however escaped him. Whoever that Cross guy was he was no ordinary mortal; the young culebra veritably could taste it in his blood when he’d bitten into him which instead of inheriting Cross’s abilities had somehow increased Richie’s powers including his extra y-ob.”

While Seth was busy grabbing take-out and possibly a newspaper to see if they’d been made; Richie had been scribbling the omega circle down in his notebook for hours on end with footnotes alongside. Seth had wanted him to toss out that old piece of junk in the trash as it beheld such a painful reminder of the last time the Geckos were holding up in a motel together. But Richie disregarded his brother’s desire and kept it. When he couldn’t decipher the connection between Cross and that other name which emerged from feeding on his soul…Gary Willet; he’d tried to contact Freddie Gonzalez to see if he could fill in the blanks. 

The nerdy but dapper suited vampire thought back to that time he, Seth, Carlos, and Santanico infiltrated the Rio Sangre prison for culebras while the peacekeeper got caught up in some other business on the side with supposedly another ranger; making a deal involving Venganza. As he recollected Gonzalez had dropped this ranger’s name prior to failing to kill him; at least once to the Geckos’ group before it all went down with Amaru.

Why the fuck couldn’t Mr. White-hat just respond to Richie’s calls or texts subsequently since Cross attempted to ambush the Geckos back at their compound around the time of the abduction; getting dead in the process. That guy picked the wrong day to piss off los hermanos Gecko; principally when came to Kate’s life being threatened. 

“Stupid fucking son of a bitch,” Seth seethed as he entered the threshold of the room. Richie poked his head up in light of the commotion and noticed his brother was carrying a folded newspaper under his left arm. Oh great time for one of his infamous class A Seth Gecko lectures, the vampire in the glasses thought. “We’ve been here what, two days and already you’ve made the obituaries Richard. Congratulations.”

The suave but stressed out older Gecko brother brought the newspaper in view displaying the small-print than tossed it at Richie’s head; obviously to antagonize him or get him rallied up enough. His plan worked. In no time the vampire’s calm stoic disposition had withered and he rose up from the bed. 

“Ah! Hey what the fuck is your problem!” he snapped at Seth, with a sullen stare hot enough to melt Antarctica. “You’re blaming this on me when that bastard got the drop on us?! Seth if I hadn’t finished the guy he would’ve taken your head off. You should be thanking me for once again risking my neck to save your ungrateful ass!”

“Richard we’re here to track down the scumbags who took the Preacher’s offspring. Not kicking up dirt on our past activities with the authorities.” Judging by how fried his face appeared, the vampire sensed his human brother’s urge to take a jab at him. He wouldn’t be fast or strong enough to connect though. “The moment we start leaving a trail of bodies, five-0 is gonna follow those bread crumbs and Gingerbread trail it straight back to us dipshit.”

Richie’s face contorted to bitterness taking offense to Seth’s outrage. 

“You think I don’t get that? How the fuck was I supposed to know the police were gonna find Apt Pupil boy’s car with his remains in the trunk?” the culebra angrily pointed at his shorter older brother’s chest; nearly knocking him over with the amount of force used. “My understanding was that it was your job to convince the ranger to get his ass down here and help us dispose of the body!” Richie gritted his teeth; hissing under his breath. “But you couldn’t even do that. I’ve been the one up day and night searching for Kate and Scott! Calling the peacekeeper receiving nothing but his damn voicemail. And I’ve been doing it with lack of sleep; which is excruciatingly draining by the way. So what the hell have you been doing?!”

“Well apparently trying to keep our heads above water while we’re in the midst of a rescue; which you only somehow manage to screw up.” Seth snarled indignantly rubbing the astriction from his forehead. He then saw Richie’s notebook and arrogantly snatched it off the desert colored quilt where the vampire had set it down; mocking the scribbles of circles he’d drawn. This motion seemed to infuriate his preternatural brother even more. “And what the fuck have you been channeling here, that weirdo kid from The Ring?” 

“Give that back asshole!” Richie scolded seizing Seth’s arm with excessive force. His nostrils flared as he forced it out of his mortal sibling’s hand; clutching the torn book against his chest like a defensive overgrown kid. “This is the only lead we have to go on about the dickwads who abducted the Fullers! I saw it when I blood-swapped with Cross. It means something not that you’re smart enough to realize that.”

Seth wasn’t having it as he shot his brother a sardonic squint. 

“Richard you’ve been scribbling pictures of unconnected circles for the last couple days. None of which are relevant or even remotely capable of being a clue; and frankly it’s disturbing.” 

“What about this ranger Gary Willet guy. I saw his face flash in my mind when I looked into Cross’s soul. Dude was a creepy ass old sunken-eyed Clint Eastwood wannabe who Cross was talking with on various occasions. I think they belong to some sort of secret organization. Like the unfinished circle is a symbol of their faction and Willet is running the show.”

“That doesn’t make any fucking sense. Why wouldn’t Gonzalez just warn us about these Satanists with badges if he knew about this shit?” Seth concocted dubiously, hands on his hip. “I thought his job was to enforce a co-existence between all things that go bump in the night.”

“Maybe he doesn’t know about these people…” Richie replied darkly. “Or maybe he didn’t want us to know.”

“Richard you’ve been up for over a hundred-twenty hours; that snake brain of yours is starting to churn into jam,” the older Gecko brother was bleak tapping his own head at Richie; pushing his vampire sibling backwards. “And I think you’ve had one too many trips down the rabbit hole Alice.”

“I know what I saw Seth. So stop treating me like I’m a damn mentally deficient child!” Richie’s voice was cold as steel emulating his expression; eyes like pointed daggers. He was practically trembling with fury. Then in the midst of the vampire’s ire he flew back at Seth with random mockery. “And jam doesn’t churn; that’s butter idiot.”

The vampire shook his head and went back to his spot on the bed in front of the television while Seth continued to stew pacing out the floor. “I knew it! I just knew you were gonna get us into another God damn kafuffle Richard. First the Twister of snake whores from Hell, then the queen bitch who possessed Kate; oh and your heroic little stunt of trading yourself in exchange for the world earning you a one-way ticket down the demon barbeque. Did I leave anything out?”

“Would you sit the fuck down and shut up already. You’re giving me an ulcer.” Richie sneered at his brother exchanging hardened glances between him and the screen; setting aside his journal. “No one even knows we’re connected to that body or that we had anything to do with it. And there’s been nothing on the news about witnesses. Far as anyone is concerned the Gecko brothers are still dead. I made sure of that.” 

“Oh yah your little homage to Butch and the Sundance Kid’s car going over the cliff;” Seth clapped his hands sarcastically earning him a glowering expression from Richie. “How very Robert Redford of you?”

“Hey it worked brother.” The vampire in glasses shot Seth a cocky grin. “Otherwise your ass would be sitting in cuffs by now. Luckily for me though, I don’t have to worry about getting shot at anymore while escaping from prison.”

“I thought regular bullets hurt like a bitch.” Seth countered crossing his arms. 

“Still wouldn’t kill me. But ah…you wouldn’t know seeing as how you’re so…delicate.” Seth swallowed back another rush of anguish as his vampire brother shot him a heavy dose of reality; one he cared little to discuss. He detested when Richie threw his immortality in his face, all it did was create unnecessary conflict for the Geckos. Whenever he gloated like this it just made Seth want to knock his block off but instead he just stood there as the young culebra sprawled out on the bed with a smartass grin. “You know it’s not too late to change options brother.  
Could save us a hell of lot of effort using me to shield you every time.”

Seth’s complexion was stunning as he let out an exalted throat chuckle; shaking his head in astonishment. The nerve of his brother even suggesting something so ludicrous. Despite his love for Richie he hated those snakes with the fire of a thousand suns. If it were up to him he’d throw them all in a room and light a fuse. More importantly the older Gecko brother had his sights set on one thing; his beach paradise. And no amount of snippy taunts or comebacks from Richie was going to ever change that.

“Yah not in this fucking lifetime,” he snorted throwing the culebra a grimace picking up the newspaper from the floor and tossing it on the small table; then pulling his cellphone from his pocket checking the time. When he’d finally felt himself cooling down he asked. “So did you have any luck reaching the ranger while you were busy doodling?”

“Weren’t you even listening to me just now?” Richie sputtered in annoyance. As usual Seth failed to pay attention and more focused on running his mouth off. It was a wonder his lips didn’t just get up from his face and hit the road without him. “I’ve been calling, texting and leaving him messages for the past several minutes. So I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say our friendly neighborhood Mexican cowboy is giving us the cold shoulder. In case you forgot he kinda ditched us for his family during all that shit with Amaru and closing Xibalba’s gateway. ”

“Figures,” Seth retorted removing his suit jacket and throwing it on chair next to the table; shuffling over to the bathroom. “Okay well I’m going take a shower. When I get out we’ll discuss our next move. Maybe look into this ranger Willet; see if he has any connections to where Scott and Kate are being held.” 

“And if he does? What are we gonna do, tickle him to death until he talks?”

Seth scoffed at his brother’s sarcasm squaring his shoulders as he stood in the bathroom doorway. “You let me worry about how we handle Mr. Willet.” He jibbed at the culebra idly; confirming his stance as the alpha in the room. “I’m serious Richard. No more this of riding solo bullshit; that’s gonna get us both killed. No more drawing attention to ourselves; we stay low profile. And definitely DEFINITELY no more killing as long as we’re in the area. As of this moment I’m calling the shots from now on. Capeesh?” 

Richie shook his head silently; switching the channel to some nostalgic B action movie. Satisfied the older Gecko brother disappeared from view and shut the bathroom door; allowing the vampire to sulk alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Winchester and the Gecko brothers are one step closer to officially meeting. Stay tuned for Chapter 2! ^_^


	3. Chapter 2

Headlights belonging to the Winchesters’ ’67 Chevy Impala drove up on the sidewalk of the Albuquerque Mortuary building where the crime scene took place, and Dean parked the car turning off the engine; stepping out in sequence with Sam, observant of the area including the windows. He perceived the bulletproof glass doors of the entrance had been smashed from the inside; blood and pieces of rotting cartilage hanging off the shards. 

Whatever did this, Dean theorized in his head, wasn’t human. 

Sauntering through the wreckage, ducking under the caution-tape as they entered the building; glass crunching under their shoes, Sam and Dean were greeted by the sheriff who’d forthwith assumed them to be federal agents based on their accustomed matching navy suits. Too bad the taller Winchester wasn’t prepared to lose his shaggy brown locks anytime soon otherwise he would’ve looked more convincingly clean-cut as his finely crop-haired older brother.

Luckily the local police never criticized the boys on their fashion sense or grooming. The sheriff at the scene was a shorter, fatherly sort of man with salt n pepper hair and a bushy mustache reminding Dean of the Monopoly dude; waiting for the boys and nodded grimly as they came up.

“Sheriff?” Dean announced as he and Sam approached; flashing their badges in front of him: proceeding to the routine introduction. “Agents Bret and Michaels. So what do we got?”

Sam’s bemused eyebrows furrowed at Dean’s rock musician reference; never got tired of hearing those. But he managed to remain aloof and professional.

"Gentlemen, I hope you brought strong stomachs." The Sherriff warned the Winchesters darkly; escorting them to the morgue where the security guard’s body was found. “It ain’t a pretty sight.”

“Oh I’m sure we’ve seen our fair share of gruesome.” Dean clarified giving the sheriff a matter-of-fact expression; earning him Sam’s usual tight-lipped silence of disapproval as they followed the droplets mingled in bare red footprints. “In our line of work we’ve pretty much witnessed it all.”

As the Winchesters passed through another string of caution-tape in front and within the swinging doors of the coroner’s lab, the eerie display of carnage caught the brother hunters by surprise. Black and white tile floor, cement walls, the white sheet marked for evidence lying next to the shredded organs forensics were scooping and scraping at; all of it dyed in crimson. Even the funky aroma of decomposing flesh and fecal matter was making Sam’s stomach gurgle uneasily.

Dean’s nose wrinkled, infused by the stench. Then the sheriff directed the Winchesters over to a black body bag lying on one of the alloy slabs; containing what was left of Charlie Romero’s corpse. On que the sheriff advanced to carefully unzip the bag unveiling the grotesque surprise inside. But once it was open Sam and Dean shuddered at the ghastly condition of the security guard’s body; throwing their sleeves in front of them to shield from the horrible smell which wafted in their faces.

The sheriff knowingly caught wind of their aghast reactions; “Like I told you, it ain’t a pretty sight to behold.”

Up close the Winchesters could see the dead security guard’s face was frozen in a petrified scream; his last moments alive were of enduring unimaginable agony. His flesh was shredded from the neck down caked in gore, slashes, severe muscle, tendon and tissue damage to the point where his uniform was unrecognizable amongst the carnage; the work of teeth and finger nails. A gaping gouge in his stomach cavity caught their attention. As like a hungry lion had mauled him; organs and intestines torn clean out resembling that of a hollowed pumpkin. Something ate this guy. But whatever it was, it did not kill him with kindness. 

Dean reluctantly approached the body, and his first thought was that there was not enough flesh left for it to be the work of a ghoul. Leviathans ate their prey whole without leaving so much as a doggy-bag. Rugarus, hungry as they were for human flesh didn’t spare the organs of their victims. And he knew from experience of hunting undead things in the past that they didn’t appetite for long-pig. This kind of monster was savage; it ransacked this poor man’s insides sparing no conscience as if it were desperately trying to root out something delectable. It wanted to nourish itself. Scratched, clawed, and chewed the security guard up while he consciously endured every single second of the torture.

The knowledge of this made Dean’s jaw clench.

"I gotta tell you boys, I ain’t seen nothin’ like this in all my years on the job," the sheriff said sternly. "Charlie was a good man. He didn’t deserve to go like this. I’ll tell you what…if you can find out whatever animal did this and take it out before it hurts anyone else, I’d be very much obliged."  
Staring at the carnage before them swallowing anxiously; the Winchesters had other inquiries they needed to get off their list of leads. 

“Sherriff the police report mentioned there was another body here originally,” Dean divulged turning to the aging man in the hat. 

“Yes, some John Doe we uncovered in the back of an abandoned vehicle near the outskirts of town the other night,” the sheriff interjected to the shorter Winchester imperatively; crossing his arms. “Then we ran his prints and IDed him as Maximillian Cross; thirty-six, no known criminal record, family owned a meat-packin’ factory until it shut down a decade ago. No next of kin ever came in to claim the body. The coroner’s analysis just dismissed that he’d been attacked by some kind of wild dog based on the deep lacerations in the throat but he also had an incision on his right hand made before the time of death. And there was blood residue found within the cut which didn’t belong to Mr. Cross…in fact it wasn’t human.”

“And Cross’s body was just missing this morning?” Sam asked observantly cocking an eyebrow; exchanging glances between the maimed carcass and the law-enforcement officer.  
“Yes the darnedest thing, bodies don’t just disappear out of morgues.”

Two mysterious killings? And one of the bodies was missing. This case was really starting to get arduously juicy in the icky sense.

“Do you think we could get a look at that coroner’s report Sheriff?” Dean requested nonchalantly.

“Of course, I’ll make sure my people run that down for you ASAP before leavin’ here. Though…I’m not sure why the FBI would be interested in a dog-attack victim…or what it has to do with Charlie’s death.”

The slack-jawed older Winchester brother thought long and hard; scratching his short brown hair before contriving an excuse for the old law enforcement officer. However the more Dean stalled his response the more the sheriff suspiciously gawked at him. Finally he said.

“Call it federal intuition,” he deadpanned; Sam was etched for words. Dean went on. “Besides it might give us some idea of where to go from here.”  
Relief overcame the Winchesters when it appeared as though Dean’s lame tall-tail seemed to suffice the old man. “Okay…” but he sounded critical.

Dean looked closer cursing under his breath; exchanging a brooding look with Sam who then turned to the sheriff. This was the part where the younger Winchester used those puppy dog eyes to politely excuse the law enforcement officials out of the room. "Um, Sheriff, could you give my partner and I a minute alone please?"

“Yah standard protocol.” Dean added straight-faced. “You know how it is.”

The man looked like he was about to protest, "Alright," he said reluctantly. Setting his jaw the briskly sheriff in the mustache cleared the room of forensics specialists; removing himself along with them through the swinging doors. Sam and Dean were finally alone to be their true hunter selves; discussing more theoretical ideas of what really killed this man.

“So you thinking what I’m thinking?” Sam threw at Dean in his serious detective manner.

“I think we got two different creepy crawlies running around town,” Dean confirmed to his brother grimly. “And one of the victim’s bodies is missing. Sounds like a job for the Mystery Machine.”

“The Sheriff said Cross’s corpse had lacerations on his throat; like bite marks. And this guy right here looks like he got ravaged by a large animal. None of this makes any sense.”  
Sam's mouth pressed into a thin line, while Dean’s face contorted inquisitively; as if both were struggling to remember something they’d read from their father’s hunting journal. But nothing came up yet. Later after the Winchesters left the morgue and roamed into the office area of the building, the sheriff returned with the file of the coroner’s analysis just as he’d promised. Sam and Dean were gracious of the man’s cooperation and fell back into hunter mode. 

Staring at the photos of Maximillian Cross before the body’s disappearance, Sam could see the bite marks more proficiently on his neck. It was strange; he had a hypothesis as to what attacked him and what didn’t. The gash in the throat definitely wasn’t contrived by a mere dog. 

“Dean, look at this,” Sam instructed his older brother to examine the close-up photo of Cross’s throat. Those teeth marks resembled very closely to couple monsters they pursued in the past; only there wasn’t several jagged holes imprinted on the skin. “Does that look vampire to you or even vetala?”

“Son of a bitch,” Dean cursed bitterly. He hated when this happened. Two monsters and no idea what either species were yet. It was infuriating for the older Winchester brother. They had to stop these things soon or more innocent people were going to die. “But there ain’t many fang holes to be a vampire. If this dude was chomped on by something either than a blood-bag, who the hell was munching on our pal Charlie-boy?”

“Ghouls? It is a morgue after all.” Sam applied shrugging, “they eat the dead but they have in the past reformed their dietary habits to include the living.”  
Dean shot his taller younger brother a bleak expression; holding one of the photos of Cross’s corpse. “Are you suggesting that Hamburgler here likes his meat live and medium rare?” he wasn’t convinced. “I just don’t see it that cut and dry Sammy. Besides there was no evidence something had Cross for a midnight snack after he kicked the bucket. His body was just missing.”

“Shot in the dark, maybe we’re reading this all wrong Dean. What if it’s not ghouls, vetala or vampires or even zombies that we’re dealing with?” his question was cryptic. “What if it’s something else?”

“Crap!” Dean growled; running his hands down his face. “It’s like I’m living in a friggin Cronenberg flick. We gotta find these ugly long-pig devouring freaks and gank em’ fast before someone else ends up on tonight’s menu.” 

Just as they turned to leave, the older Winchester brother noticed a yellow flier resting on one of the desks. He’d seen it before from the evidence files that Sam previously hacked into prior to taking the case. That security guard had the same one on him when he was found dead in the lab. Wandering over to the desk instinctively, Dean snatched up the flier and addressed a female deputy on the scene.

“Hey what’s this?”

The attractive Latino woman in dark hair marched over quickly to gander at what Dean was insisting on. Raising her eyebrows she applied warmly; “You mean the Marigold Festival & Parade? They’re time honored traditions in Albuquerque’s South Valley communing Dia de los Muertos; held every year on the first Sunday of Day of the Dead. Why do you ask?”  
“My partner and I saw one of these fliers in evidence,” Dean responded the woman leisurely. “It was found in the morgue with Charlie Romero’s body. You wouldn’t happen to know where they’re handing these out would you.”

The deputy shook her head. “Someone was handing them out the other day in the sheriff’s department. Didn’t get a look at who it was as this one just happened to find my desk but I think you can find out from the city.”

Dean flashed the woman a savvy appreciative smile. “Thanks, we’ll look into that. Oh you wouldn’t happen to have an extra flier handy would you?”

“Knock yourself out agent,” the deputy thoughtfully imputed; gesturing for Dean to keep the flier. “We’ve got plenty of them lying around here.”  
“Thank you ma’am.” With that the deputy strolled away allowing the hunter to detach himself from gawking at her behind to spin around facing his much taller younger brother; waiting patiently in the background. He had an alarmingly jubilant grin attached to his robust unshaven mug. “Strap on your sombrero Sammy; cause it looks like we’re going to a Mesoamerican festival.”

Sam scrutinized at his unflappable older brother’s sudden burst of enthusiasm; suspecting that he had other intentions for wanting to attend the Marigold extravagant that wasn’t work related.

“Dean we’re in the middle of a case.” The taller brother reminded him with wry eyes. “There are two possible monsters out there making fillets of the locals and you want to what? Do the cha-cha?” 

Dean’s animated glow immediately dwindled; remolding into a more mild state. “Sammy this is a lead.” He encouraged. “Trust me I have a knack for smelling these kinds of things out. And right now my Spidey sense is blaring off the friggin charts.” Dean held up the flier in Sam’s face. “Something ain’t right about all this I feel it in my gut.”

“But the deputy just told us they hold that festival every year. And besides the exact same flier being found with the security guard, I don’t see how it’s connected with what we’re hunting.” 

Dean stalled a minute before answering; weary of his brother’s stubbornness to accept the theory he had drafted in his mind. He’d been lectured countless times already on the different undead myths and legends; comparing them to reality and Hollywood. With all the terrifying things the Winchesters had witnessed growing up hunters; a shoe on everything they thought they knew was bound to drop sooner or later. The pieces to the jigsaw were there; they just had to assemble them. But if he couldn’t get Sam on board with his provision then they really were screwed.

“Okay just hear me out on this,” the older Winchester insisted putting his hand on the younger Winchester’s broad shoulder; huddling closer out of earshot as they ambled back out to the impala. “You’re gonna think I’m outa my gall but just roll with me for a second Sam. I think we’re dealing with a new breed of -”  
-“Zombies?” Sam acquiesced; like he’d tasted something bitter.

Zombies hadn’t been anything new for the Winchesters. They’d encountered three separate species of these things in the past; real zombies like Angela Mason, the Croatoan “Croats” or the Leviathan food addicts. Croat victims were turned into crazy viral psychopaths; transferred through the blood stream. Leviathan food junkies were rendered stupid and slow over the course of consuming too much contaminated foods such as the turducken slammers; devolving into ravenous scavengers. And Angel Mason was something deadly altogether; hard to re-kill, super-strong and sinisterly the plants withered and lifeless. None of these were anything like the Hollywood movies.

“Think about it Sammy,” Dean pressed on. “Cross’s missing body in the morgue. Romero lying gutless on the floor. The friggin Carrie footprints leading up to the bulletproof entrance which was smashed out from the inside. And all this just happens to occur days before Dia de los Muertos. You’re telling me that’s not a coincidence.”  
Fine Sam was gonna bite. “But then what killed Cross to reanimate him and go Evil Dead? That wasn’t zombie Dean; it looked a hell of a lot like a vampire’s bite which you know can’t do that.”

“Yah except it wasn’t a vampire Sam; not the blood-sucking critters we usually gank anyway, unless Jaws has been to the dentist.”  
Sam was stonewalling. “But the sheriff already elucidated to us that he was found in the trunk of a car; like someone consciously hid him there. And vampires usually hide their kills. So care to try again?”

“Maybe whatever iced Max didn’t reanimate him.” Dean concluded.

“So you’re saying what? Someone just strolled into that morgue last night and brought Cross back to life?” the wheels in Sam’s head began to turn as he entered the same wave link as his brother. “Like a resurrection spell?”

“More like…necromancy.” The other brother suggested cryptically.

Just as the Winchesters felt they’d made their breakthrough in the case a figure situated in front of the hood of the impala with his arms crossed caught their eye. The pale geeky boy looked about eighteen with dishelved hair; hoddie, blue jeans and sneakers. He had a downcast glare; trembling with anxiety as if something had spooked him earlier. Oddly enough when his gaze lifted towards the Winchesters it became evident that he’d been waiting for them. But for what reason?

“A-are you guys the feds?” he asked in a shaky voice when the hunters in suits approached him.

Dean nodded nonchalantly then Sam asked. “What’s wrong kid?”

The boy swallowed hard, blue eyes filling up with tears of fight as he struggled to find the words. 

“Hey it’s okay kid,” Dean cooed him softening his gruff voice; gently putting his hands on his shoulders. “What’s your name?”  
“L-Lenny…”

“Well Lenny, you don’t have to be afraid; you can trust us. Did you see anything last night?”

The frail kid shook his head rapidly; eyes lowered. “I-I think I might be in t-trouble.” He admitted; throwing his hands crisscrossed behind his head. The Winchesters took note of his unsettling behavior. “I saw it…”

“It’s okay Lenny,” Sam assured the boy. “You can tell us. We’re kinda experts on unexplained phenomenon.”

The teenager was stalling. And just when they felt this was a waste of time Dean made a suggestion. “Tell you what,” he spit-balled at Lenny, “What do ya say we grab some grub at a local diner somewhere close by and you can humor us then?” Of course part of this was just an excuse to test pilot some of the food while they were in the area.

Nothing seemed to be budging this kid to talk at first. Except once Dean mentioned free food he was sold.

So the Winchesters figured the best way to gain the information they needed was to break the ice by entertaining the boy’s appetite for delicious Mexican cholesterol at a nearby fast-food; The Big Kahuna Burger. It wasn’t Sam’s first choice to go for dinner that evening however Dean insisted that he’d wanted to try it if they ever saw one while on the road. Sure enough they stumbled on one in Albuquerque. Besides Sam knew better than to argue with his big brother because when it came to food, especially pie, Dean’s stomach was always the boss.

After Dean went up to order the food; delighting over the menu; then carrying a tray back, the brothers were seated in one of the plastic booths across from Lenny. He was hesitant at first; jaw unhinged. Breathing deeply he licked his lips then began digging into his meal while the Winchesters gaped solemnly.

“So…now do you wanna run us by what happened?” Dean requested indolently at the kid; crossing his arms.  
________________________________________

Seth and Richie Gecko sat opposite sides in one of The Big Kahuna Burger booths; delving into their fatty cuisine. After an entire day of being at each other’s throats over the abduction of the Fullers, the ex-criminal brothers were exhausted, tired and hungry. It was break time. Their favorite fast-food restaurant of preference seemed to consistently hit the spot. Their uncle Eddie would tell them whenever they had issues they couldn’t resolve “eat about it” which tended to work ironically; the brothers were never very good with opening up to one another about their feelings.

While there Seth proceeded to occupy himself in a traveling guide between bites of his BLT; envisioning himself on every single sunny beach he’d flipped through. Meanwhile Richie was fervently sipping his favorite drink horchata through a straw like a fulfilled little kid in a candy store. 

Occasionally the older Gecko brother would peer over his magazine, reacting to the greedily slurping noises Richie would make and shake his head with a miffed huff. It amazed Seth that his vampire sibling even had a taste for the mortal delights anymore. But better he was drinking normal beverages and not on someone’s neck as he’s done with Maximillian Cross a few nights ago. Thinking back on it he’d remembered the time they doubled dated with Santanico and Sonja at a fancy steak house where they casually dined on red animal protein discussing a hit/heist. Later Richie had told Seth that culebras could still eat human comestibles to keep up appearances they just couldn’t get nourishment from it as they did feeding on souls. 

Ugh the thought of his brother ingesting on people made Seth’s skin crawl. He could at least appreciate Richie kept his weirdo blood dietary separate from him. Not once did he ever ask Seth to participate with him on a hunt or hang out at the bar Richie purchased to pursue dark souls like a Venus fly trap anticipating for its victims. The vampire knew precisely well how much his bloodthirsty nature repulsed his human brother. Being a creature of the night remained to be one of their many constant conflicts. On the bright side though Richie had vowed never to take an innocent life and he more than solidified that commitment. 

“Richard maybe you could slurp that shit a little louder,” Seth deadpanned sarcastically turning another page of his magazine, “They can’t hear you in the back row.”

On que the vampire scowled at his older sibling, straw firmly intact between his teeth, swiftly inhaling the sugary cinnamon, milk and rice substance; increasing the sound to purposely antagonize Seth. This behavior was ridiculous. What were they in the second grade? Things were pretty bad when neither brother could even tolerate occupying the same space let alone talk to one another like two civil adults. 

“Shut up already!” he snapped at the culebra wearing glasses; dropping the magazine on the table. The sudden outburst instigated ongoing gawks from the other Kahuna diners. Wonderful. Just what they needed an audience. 

A sardonic smirk formulated on Richie’s face as he slowly ceased guzzling when he’d figured his brother suffered enough. Then he lifted his head away from the straw, calmly straightened himself up like a gentlemen and properly crossed his hands on the table in front of him. Seth hated it when his brother behaved like an arrogant ass. The Geckos were in the middle of tracking the bastards who captured their friends, threatened by outside entities they didn’t know how to deal with and trying to remain off the authorities’ grid. Seth and Richie had to be vigilant, now wasn’t the time for petty squabbles. 

“Was that really necessary?” Seth grimaced at Richie icily; withering dark eyes cold as glaciers. 

The vampire simply shrugged wearing a mild expression. “Depends on if you’re gonna bitch at me about it later.”  
Seth shook his head astonished; rubbing his strained stubble face. “Richard…I know lately we’ve got a mountain of issues weighing down on us like a fucking freight train. But can we at the very least attempt to put that shit aside for an hour or two and share a damn meal?”

Richie sighed defeated, throbbing his cheeks; rhinestone blue eyes slightly grave beneath the black rims of his smart spectacles as he leaned backwards against his seat. Wrinkling his nose bitterly from the aroma of Seth’s strong chypre cologne intertwined with the pine-like scent of his Head and Shoulders shampoo.

“Fine, whatever.” Richie answered dismissively; voice hollow.

Seth scanned his brother’s face, searching for something the culebra was leaving out; he guessed correctly. “Does this have anything to do with what I said about your little doodle book you’ve been carrying around since Hell kicked us in the ass?”

“It’s not a doodle book it’s a documented gazette shithead,” Richie scoffed like a smart-aleck through his grinding teeth; pushing his glasses up in between with his middle finger. “And no, that isn’t the reason I’m pissed.”

It was just like Richie Gecko to take offense to everything his brother said. Mockery. Sarcasm. Even stupid analogies were enough to infuriate him. He had to of known this was usually the way Seth addressed people. They’d been doing this for years. He shit-talked; it was his specialty. Most of the time he wasn’t even serious in half the things said or of things he’d say to Richie. Naturally it came across as cruel and uncaring but usually taken way out of context. Beneath the surface Seth was genuinely sincere in his affection for his brother.  
He cocked an eyebrow at his preternatural sibling cleverly. “So you are pissed at me.”

Richie sat there dead silent; his fiery gaze practically burning a hole through his brother’s face. If looks could kill. The older Gecko brother was aware the vampire was a man of few words and nearly devoid of emotion retaining a composed mask. A mask that he’d allow very few people to see through… Kate Fuller being one of them. 

“Look…Richie I’m sorry okay,” Seth bellowed; attempting to soften his voice. Sometimes his brother despised this tactic as it made him feel as though Seth was talking down to a child. “I shouldn’t have said it was your fault the Preacher’s offspring got taken. I know you’ve been working that snake-brain overtime to figure out what the hell we’re dealing with. And you’re right; you’ve saved my ass countless times. In fact I think I’d be dead by now…if it weren’t for you. I don’t tell you that enough or ever. What can I say; I’m a mean stubborn son of a bitch most times.” 

At this Richie furrowed his brow, dubiously squinting his blue spectacled eyes at his brother. “Seth are you fucking with me right now?”

“I’m being dead serious buddy. No bullshit.” The older Gecko brother admitted straight-faced. “The way I see it…two Geckos are always gonna be better than one. And right now we’re all each other has in this god forsaken hellhole. We can rely on no one but ourselves.” As the tension gradually drained between the brothers, Seth went on. “If we’re gonna get back the brat-pack we’re gonna have to put aside our shit and work together. You and me, we’re gonna make those sons of bitches pay Richard; that’s a promise. So…truce?” 

The older Gecko brother held out his hand across the table to Richie who appeared completely boggled. He had every intention of staying indignant at Seth for treating him like crap ever since the Twister, Santanico, Kate and Amaru with the addition of the Fuller siblings’ abduction. This was not one of those easily-blown-over arguments the Gecko brothers had occasionally where they’d punch it out and go back to basics. Their baggage had been building for quite some time; escalating after Seth learned Richie killed their father to protect him and while they fought Amaru together saving the world like a couple of unlikely heroes. Seth may have wanted to avoid their family drama but eventually they were going to have to deal with it all; Richie didn’t care how long it took.

He let out an apathetic sigh reaching his own arm across the table to take his brother’s hand. “Truce.” And they did their signature guns-crossed handshake ignoring the onlookers. 

“Besides…how else are you gonna tell that girl what you really feel?” Seth threw in with a smart-ass crack; taking a sip of his cola.

Instantly the vampire’s face shifted from broodingly vacant to quizzically wan. “What?” He’d been taken by surprise. Seth couldn’t help chuckling as he watched the color of Richie’s usually pallor complexion turn a bright rosy shade over his nose from ear to ear. Embarrassment. The older Gecko brother delighted over this. Never had he seen Richie’s routinely stoic exterior deteriorate so quickly. Not even when he was with Santanico. Yet at the sudden mention of Kate, the culebra was a basket case. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Common Richard I wasn’t born yesterday.” Seth confirmed leaning back with his arms crossed. “I’ve known for a while now; ever since I caught you two kids macking behind the scenes of monster house of horrors. Saw the way you’d looked at each other…” He paused for a moment looking down and allowed the last sentence to come out blunt. “You love Kate.”

Before the bashful vampire had a chance to retort his brother’s accusations, indistinct chatter humming in the background shattered the current discussion. Instinctively the Gecko brothers cohesively glanced to their left over the section which separated their booth from others; to another table where two men in their mid-to-late thirties were seated across from a kid that looked barely old enough to drive. And the infectious eavesdropping commenced. Richie didn’t recognize who they were but Seth…he’d seen them earlier that day; bumped into one of them while making his way back to the room. 

Both of them looked athletic. The first guy closest to the window was the same tall doofus who’d practically body-checked Seth on the way out of the manager’s office; smooth shaggy brown hair shimmering in the orange sunset light beaming through the blinds, muscular built, sporting a facial stubble similar to the more clean-cut dude sitting next to him. Only he appeared more medium built in height with short cropped sandy brown hair; closely shaved on the sides yet longer and spiker on top; an inspired hairstyle that both Seth and Richie had been showing off that year. 

The strapping duo were wearing matching custom navy blue suits on white with stripped ties; similar wardrobe to that of an FBI agent but to the Geckos they more so resembled underwear models rather than top authority officials residing in the government. And while these guys had good taste in men’s wear their suits were nowhere near as dashingly suave as the Geckos’ twin black ensemble. 

“You know those guys?” Richie quipped when he substantiated Seth had been rubbernecking at the pair of young assumed federal agents for the last five minutes; surveying the conversation carefully.

“No,” the older Gecko replied ominously; keeping his attention fixated to the table ten feet from him. “I had a close-encounter with Paul Bunyan over there earlier at the motel,” he discretely pointed at the man with the shaggy locks; which Richie acknowledged. “Son of a bitch nearly knocked me on my ass as I was leaving the manager’s office. And get this…they weren’t dressed like feds at the time.” 

Richie unheeded his brother’s obvious exaggeration in detail; squinting his blue eyes inquiringly. “So if they’re not feds then who the hell are they?” 

“Shit if I know they could be more of Willet’s goons like Cross,” Seth suggested indispensably. He felt himself growing agitated. There was already a dead body out there with their name on it which the Sherriff’s department managed to retrieve, the Fullers captors playing cat and mouse with them and now to top it off these federal agent imposters poking their noses around town. “I don’t like this.”

The vampire pressed his lips tightly together turning back to his brother cynically. “You think maybe you’re just being paranoid brother? I mean these walking bravado infomercials don’t exactly have me shaking in my boots”

“Just shut up Richard!” the older Gecko barked at his younger preternatural sibling. “I’m trying to hear what they’re saying?”  
“Why?”

Seth rolled his eyes grouchily at Richie. “I want to know what they’re up to; see if they’re tailing us.” His answer only earned him an indifferent expressive head shake from his brother.  
________________________________________

“I was out riding my bike past curfew. Stupid I know but it was sorta peer pressure; promised some guys I’d meet them at this abandoned factory warehouse where we’ve been kinda…you know messing around,” Lenny admitted sheepishly; nerves on end which made him scratch his washed out hair. But he paced himself and continued his story, “On the way there I rode past the mortuary when I saw this bright red light coming from the windows. At first I thought it was some kind of weird light show but when I got closer the power short circuited in the building. I heard noises coming from inside too but couldn’t make out what they were so I hid in the bushes. That’s when I saw it…”

“Saw what Lenny?” Dean’s green eyes were engulfed with solemnity. Watching the endless fear in the kid’s face torment him.  
“That thing….it smashed through those doors like they were nothing. There were shards of glass sticking out in every inch of its body; blood everywhere, but it didn’t…it didn’t respond to any pain whatsoever! The dude was naked no joke and it had a piece of friggin intestine in its mouth. I mean how the hell is that even possible? I…I think it was…dead. But that’s not possible!”  
Sam and Dean exchanged willful glances then turned back to Lenny who inhaled apprehensively taking a sip of his soft drink; incredulous when their counteraction surfaced more nonchalant than he’d expected by this story. The kid instantly got the impression the Winchesters had witnessed their fair share of weirdness to last a more than a decade.  
“Is there anything else about that night that you can tell us? Besides this dead guy?” Sam ticketed considerately with patience as he followed the teenager’s behavior. “Was there someone else there?”  
“You don’t think I’m crazy?” Lenny was confounded.  
“Kid trust us we know crazy,” Dean dyed-in-the-wool. “And you ain’t the Norman Bates type.  
________________________________________

“Dead guys? What the fuck are they talking about?” Richie perplexed sourly; shooting Seth a critical look.

“Not a clue; sounds like someone’s been watching too much Fear Fest,” the older Gecko brother spat wryly; fixing his suit jacket as he’d intended to leave the booth. “But at least it’s got nothing to do with us.” He crumbled up his burger wrapper along with the napkin used to wipe his mouth then tossed it on the tray in front of him. “Common Richie lets blot; chase down that lead on Ranger Willet; you mentioned earlier about a warehouse.”

The vampire coherently spun around to face his mortal sibling cocking an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t believe me about that,” he proclaimed with dry scrutiny; “Said I was just making things up in my head.”

“Forget what I said okay!” Seth pipped gesturing his hands in a silencing mechanism, aiming to counter his brother’s sardonic tone of attitude; climbing to his feet. “I’m not the one with the psychic powers here. If you said you saw where this Willet guy might be…then that’s where we gotta be.”

The young culebra resentfully glared at his brother’s bossiness. Sometimes he just wanted to smack Seth whenever he flip-flopped in his decisions. Couldn’t he at least warn Richie; make up his mind like a normal person? However impending the Gecko brothers’ recent truce there was no point in hashing up another argument; it was a waste of valuable time. Time the Fullers didn’t have. And right now they had to work together to get their precious cargo back.

“It could be a trap you know,” Richie warned his brother getting up from his seat; buttoning up the front of his suit jacket and following Seth towards the Big Kahuna Burger exit. “He sent Cross on our asses already; who’s to say there aren’t more like him?” at this Seth shot him bleak expression. But there was truth in these menacing facts. “And now that’s he’s dead there’s a possibility of a price on our heads. Again.” 

“Yes Richard, I’m well aware of the shit-storm that has befallen on us,” Seth scoffed sarcastically; as the Gecko brothers zigzagged through the parking lot approaching their black 60s’ Mercury Cougar and climbed inside. Richie instantly picked up on his brother’s restless anxiety mixed with excessive stress; here comes another lecture. “Unfortunately since you decided to eat our best shot at finding the little bible thumpers, we no longer have a leverage to secure a backup plan depending if Old Man Rivers decides to turn up. And In case you haven’t realized I’m not the one who’s bulletproof.”

“We didn’t need him alive, brother; I already looked into his blood. It’s like a map wedged into my head; you never forget.” The vampire rolled his eyes dully; gritting his teeth. Seth was starting to sound like a broken record, it was driving him nuts. “And how many times do I have to tell you? Your stupid ass would be dead by now if I hadn’t killed Cross.”

“Richard, do the words low profile mean anything to you?” the older Gecko countered smart-aleck. “’I’m just curious.”

“He was cutting off your damn air supply Seth!”

“So you just slithered in and added to our already persistent body count.”

The vampire couldn’t believe how much whining his mortal sibling was doing. No gratitude at all, he sulked to himself. “Would you have rather I just let him pull the Vader move and strangle you to death?”

Seth dismissed his preternatural younger brother’s staggering ire and revved up the ignition. The random quietness between them was awkward for the vampire as he studied his mortal sibling sitting at the wheel; unimpressed. Normally Seth at any minute couldn’t resist snapping back with a snarky response. Wheels in Richie’s head were turning the more systematically he rubbernecked; scanning Seth’s face like a puzzle he insisted on solving until the truth surfaced. When it hit him, Richie sat back etched letting out an uncomfortable chuckle as if he’d heard the worst joke ever. His brother took notice of that.

“What’s your problem now?” He snarled removing his hands from the wheel. 

“This isn’t about me killing Cross; it’s about how I killed him…isn’t it?” Richie suggested darkly earning him a nuance from Seth. “More of your anti-culebra bullshit.”

“What? You think that’s all this is? Richard we’re skating on thin ice here;” Seth deflected sharply, “putting our asses on the line for two people whose lives we both royally screwed up by the way. We have no idea where they are or the son of bitches pulling our strings. And to top it off we got the feds down here sniffing around like a couple of fucking bloodhounds.”  
Richie scrutinized Seth with a bemused smirk. “I thought you said that Ken and Barbie in there weren’t really FBI.”

“Whether they’re feds or not is beside the point,” Seth bellowed; flexing his palms back onto the stirring wheel before his brother blew his concentration. “It’s some other douchebags poking around and we can’t afford that kinda heat. We’re supposed to be Kentucky fucking Fried Chicken remember?”

“Alright so what’s our game plan brother? I mean if we go in there and the place is swarming with goons; we’re no good to Kate and Scott dead.”  
Seth picked up his glock 19 and showed it to Richie. “Well that’s why we got these things.” He boasted then set the gun aside. “So this warehouse you said you Xeroxed into that thick skull; where exactly is it?”

“Just drive Seth,” Richie countered vacantly; staring through the windshield. “You’ll know when we get there.”

“Whatever the hell we’ve gotten ourselves into,” Seth blurted briskly, “I do know one thing; these douchebags have no idea who they just fucked with.” Shifting, the older Gecko brother backed the cougar out the parking space and headed forward.  
________________________________________

So was there anyone else there?” Sam repeated to the teenager; as Dean finished the last of his burger. “Besides this dead…looking guy?"  


Lenny nodded.

“Who?” Dean urged between chewing tiny bits; pressing his palms on the surface of the table. 

For a moment it seemed as though the kid would cave into his knowledge like a grenade about to implode from the inside; wiping out every last bit of evidence. Who could blame him? He was terrified as hell. Seeing something so horrific as a dead guy walking around would’ve been enough to make anyone head for the hills. In this case the Winchesters needed to get this kid to cooperate by any means if they intended to put an end to the threat.

Lenny was shaking staring back at the brothers with a deer-in-the-headlights gaze. They were patient but at some point their patience would dwindle. Taking a deep breath to calm his anxiety; the kid bit the inside of his cheek and recounted.

“There was another guy…”

“Like…the dead guy?” offered Dean.

Lenny shook his head “no”.

“So he was normal looking then?” Sam budged; conveying an even manner while studying the young witness.

Again Lenny nodded then reluctantly dove deeper into his story. “I…d-didn’t want to say anything because I-I didn’t want to get in trouble but…this old dude….I saw him before last night…at the abandoned warehouse where the guys and I hang out..” the atmosphere in the restaurant suddenly got chillier as the pieces of this boy’s story started coming together. Sam and Dean sat still-life with intense anticipation as Lenny rolled out all his cards. 

“A week ago…I left my brother’s jacket there, so I went back to get it because I sorta borrowed it without asking,” The Winchesters exchanged thoughtful glances; relating to that part of the story “…but when I got there I saw two men, and he was one of them; arguing about something a name…Gecko something or other.”

“Gecko?” Sam repeated thunderstruck. Glancing back at Dean who was just as lost.

“They said…they had big plans for whoever that is. And something about the Day of the Dead festival. Next thing I know…the old dude’s eyes are glowing like some freaky ass R-rated ‘They Are Among Us’ B-movie shit.” Lenny threw his hands up on his face; slowly running them down and the Winchesters could’ve sworn he was on the verge of losing it. “And this old fart’s a ranger I’m not kidding. I ran home just as soon as I had an advantage; tried telling my folks what I saw but they wouldn’t believe me. Who would?!”

Sam’s cheeks throbbed with empathy as he acknowledged the shaken up teenager with solemn eyes. “We believe you Lenny. I know most people are often skeptic about what’s really out there,” he turned to Dean then back at the kid. “But there are those like us who know the truth. We’ve seen it; experienced it. My partner and I…we hunt things like this. And right now we want to stop whatever this thing is before it hurts anymore people.”

Lenny’s eyes were bug-eyed and somber yet confused. “Are you guys like…the X-files or something?”

“We get that a lot.” The older Winchester brother counteracted the question; getting straight to the point as he leaned in closer to an intimidating pose. “Now this old ranger, the one you saw from the mortuary and the warehouse, what’d he look like?”

Lenny swallowed hard then responded the hunter with a distraught tone. “I don’t know dude…like fiftyish, pale with an upside-down pear-shaped head, average height…sunken eyes and cheeks like some desperado version of the Crypt Keeper. And he was carrying around this weird tribal looking necklace thing.” 

Dean was looking to press this kid further. “Did you catch this ranger’s name or know where he was headed?”

Lenny shook his head nibbling on his finger nails nervously. “No…but that thing he left with last night… It didn’t …it was like he was controlling it somehow.” 

“What about directions for this warehouse?” Sam inquired; offering the boy his phone to punch in the information.

Lenny sat slack-jawed for a second but reciprocated; hitting buttons on the phone then handing it back to the shaggy hunter. Sure enough he’d provided the boys an address and directions to get there. 

Tension drained from the Winchesters as they seamlessly leaned back against the seat of the booth. Dean pulled out his phone checking the time noticing the sun was nearly touching the ground when he peeked through the binds. Sam was assorted in emotions; first on consoling the witness sitting across from him and second what kind of monsters he and his brother were up against this time. As the dust settled on Lenny’s statement; taking in his fragile state Sam and Dean were confident they weren’t going to get much more out of him. 

“Can I go now?” the kid suddenly asked.

“Yah I think that pretty much covers it,” Dean confirmed as he and Sam got up from the table; reaching into his inside jacket pocket to take out a business card with his and Sam’s cell phone numbers. “But if you hear anything else or if you…feel like you missed something out, you can reach us here.” And Lenny accepted the card. “Alright common Sammy lets boogie like Travolta on Saturday Night Fever.”

“Thanks for your time Lenny.” Sam implied gently; then he and Dean withdrew from the teenager, heading out of Kahuna stalking their way to the parking lot where Baby was resting undisturbed.

Climbing into the car forking sides, the younger Winchester turned to his hardened sibling at the driver’s seat with a sincerely lost expression. “So what do you think?” 

“About the case?” Dean uttered intensively. 

Sam nodded. “Yah that and the fact that we just heard the local law enforcement might be the Puppet Masters behind this.”

Dean’s cheeks throbbed as he started up the engine; an unusual edge of concern peeked through his rock solid demeanor. “Honestly Sam, based on Chicken Little’s statement back there I’m more worried about what we just stumbled ourselves into.” He paused soaking it all in; every detail about what Lenny had witnessed from the description to the old ranger to the creature that busted out of the mortuary. “I mean you got your standard evil costume jewelry, dumble-dorks with lizard names, crypt-keeping asshats with badges, Franken-douche on the loose. I don’t know man I’m getting Abbot and Castello vibes up in here.”

“And we now know that whatever this ranger is planning, it’s got something to do with the Dia de los Muertos festival.” Sam added instinctively; giving Dean the you-were-right face. “If this is a necromancer Dean, it’s nothing like the last ones we’ve hunted. Not if we’re going on Farmer Ted’s story back there.”

Dean rubbed the corners of sleep and stress from one of his eyes and glanced back at his younger brother. “Sammy those mundane jackasses in fascist monkey suits were the cuddly Carebears compared to this son of bitch. Resurrecting corpses into unstoppable cold-blooded killing machines; deserves a bullet to the head in my book.”

“So what are we thinking; maybe check out this warehouse where Lenny said he saw the ranger a week ago?”

“I’m game if you are.” Dean tossed back to Sam before hitting the gear shift to the impala.

“Yah let’s do it.” The younger brother insisted. 

Dean put his foot to the gas pedal and the impala sped off.

On the way to the warehouse the Winchesters decided back pedaling to Sunset motel to change out of their suits and into their casual hunting gear; flannel shirts over Ts’, jeans, and boots complete with a couple of cargo jackets. By the time Sam and Dean headed back down the main road, the sun completely gone giving way to night, a little over an hour later they noticed a broken sign for Cross Meat-Packing based on Lenny’s directions; pulling up to a nearly deserted parking lot of the old factory along a chain-linked fence. 

There was one other car which Dean immediately noticed situated a few paces from the impala. Old American muscle just like the Winchester’s vehicle of choice; classic black 60s cougar. Judging how shiny and clean it was Dean went out on a limb assuming the owners were probably still inside the abandoned building. Why? He didn’t know just like he wasn’t sure if they were the bad guys. Like the routine before, they got out the car strolling up to the cougar.

“Someone else’s here.” Sam surmised disparagingly; giving his older brother a cautious glance.

“Yep,” Dean sassed; pulling out his Colt M1911A1 hidden underneath the back of his tan jacket. “So what do ya say we go on in and welcome them to the neighborhood Sammy?”

Sam beckoned correspondingly taking out his Beretta 92FS following his older brother towards the opening in the chain-link fence; stalking through the tall grass. The building was decrepit with broken windows, rectangular shaped; 3 stories with an old security crow’s nest perched ten feet or so from the warehouse. In the dark the Winchesters couldn’t make out the factory building’s color though they clearly noticed it’d seen better days.

As soon as the brothers entered the main floor, guns angled protectively in front of them scoping out their surroundings precautious; the fouling smell hit them. It was a mixture of the past packaged within rot, rust, and mold with just a hint of decomposing corpuscles. An abandoned meat factory was bound to smell bad after decades of disintegrating; what did they expect? The ground beneath their feet was littered with papers, empty boxes, distorted chairs. Graffiti plastered all over the walls. Lenny wasn’t kidding when he mentioned messing around with his buddies. 

“Looks deserted enough.” Sam affirmed to Dean who was scanning the enormous space backwards and forwards. “You think they took the party elsewhere?”

“Nah they’re here,” the older Winchester demurred; flaring his nostrils indignantly. “Someone’s giving off chypre stink or Casper’s wearing expensive cologne.” 

“You can actually smell that?” 

“Yah what can I say Sammy, I’ve got the nose of a bloodhound.”

Sam glanced at his sibling marvellously; he sure had a way of defining his particular skillset. “Dean, maybe it’s best if we split up,” he suggested; observing the detreating wooden ceiling above them. “You know cover more ground.”

Dean shot his taller but younger brother a grim expression. “And every time we do that, it all goes to hell.”

“We’ll stay in contact with our phones set to vibrate,” Sam took out his cell showing it to Dean then secured it back in his jacket. “And if anything goes down or something shows up; we’ll let the other know about it.”

Dean let out a reluctant sign; delaying his search to face his brother. Much as he wanted to argue over what an incredibly stupid idea it was to split up, Sam had a point. If they covered different ground on opposite directions then maybe they could secure the building faster before anything or anyone interrupted the Winchesters’ thorough investigation. 

“Fine,” acquiesced Dean; his eyes deliberated. “But if anything and I mean anything goes south on your end; you high tail it on outta there capeesh.” The taller brother acknowledged simpering but the older Winchester was still averse in decision to split. “I’m dead serious Sammy; don’t try to be a hero alone on this one. Who knows what sorta freaks we’re tangling with here. And especially if Cross shows up, don’t hesitate to gank that son of a bitch.” 

“I got it Dean, I’ll be careful.” Sam assured his brother; clamping a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

Dean’s face was somber as he clapped his shaggy haired sibling’s face with his palm. “Yes I do little brother.” He divulged at Sam; then he disengaged bringing up his colt. “So stay sharp in the game, you hear? I’m not looking forward to the House on Haunted Hill crumbling down on us.”

Sam nodded again at Dean then the Winchesters simultaneously diverged from one another; Sam heading up some stairs while Dean shuffled further into the darkened, decaying atmosphere. 

Dean took another glance around; alterative. The warehouse had several wide windows on each of the four walls; some were boarded up with aging wood and rusty nails. Patina formuled on the copper pipes. Several smaller windows above those was sending rays of moon light to bounce off the icy concrete floor littered with thousands of torn documents titled Cross Meat-Packing; dust and other unknown molecules floating about. At this time the only thing on hunter’s mind was whether Sam was succeeding on his end; remaining cautious.

As he made his way to another quarter of the building; a singular word in brightly colored graffiti caught his considerate glare. BEWARE. Dean snickered quietly to himself; someone’s obvious idea of a joke. Maybe it was that Lenny kid’s handy work. He didn’t need some cheesy slogan to warn him of any danger when his life was pretty much a walking deathtrap. Several moldy boxes nestled in one corner of the next room Dean scanned; shadows dancing eerily across the walls sending him unnerving feelings of desertion. 

Dean made his way through a corridor of empty stalls which were once part of the slaughtering area, passing eroding meat hooks hanging above his head; he abruptly heard indistinct chatter causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. The hunter didn’t scare easily but with all the nasties he’d encountered his anxiety to be ready for an impending attack compelled him. The closer he got the clearer were the voices and neither of them belonged to Sam. 

Just great. Immediately Dean flipped out his cell and speed-dialed his sibling. 

“Sammy? Hey it’s me,” Dean whispered in his gruff voice when he heard his brother pick up the line. “I think I just found our party crashers? I’m gonna go check it out.”

“Alight, watch your back Dean.” The younger Winchester reverberated in his ear. “I’m on the first level; the upstairs is secure. Should I head over to you?”

“Yah you don’t want to miss the fun.” Dean articulated mischievously, “Call if anything comes up.” He closed his phone back into his pocket and continued to follow the echoing chatter.

Ducking through the plastic green tinted strip doors of an old refrigerating room Dean crouched against a wall separating himself from another quarter; subduing his gun. The voices were much more vibrate that he could make out the intense conversation. Picking up the voices of two men; arguing over the whereabouts of the names Kate and Scott Fuller. When he felt inclined, Dean popped his head around the corner into what look like another storage unit. There he got a good look at one of the men arguing with a faceless figure.

The guy in plain few was about Sam’s height and build; wearing a sharp black over white ensemble businesslike suit. Appealing in looks and approximately mid-to-late twenties; with short slicked dark hair closely shaven on both sides and a ghostly pale complexion obscured behind a set of smart thick spectacles. He reminded Dean of a modern day Clark Gable if he were a geeky yet boyishly strapping men’s fragrance model/bible salesman. Several feel away from the suit he spotted what looked like another man lying unconscious on the ground. But the hunter was unable to make out whom or what was taunting the man in black.

Quickly Dean overhearing the conversation fished out his cell and dialed Sam; putting the receiver to his ear. When the line picked up the older Winchester began uttering the scene taking place.

“Sammy I’ve got some ducks in my view,” Dean whispered. 

“Who are they?” the younger Winchester inquired curiously.

“Not sure but Harry Potter all growed up over here looks like he’s auditioning for one of those Latter Day Saint commercials.” Jested the other hunter with a witty smirk; balancing the cell between his ear and shoulder; aiming his gun. “And he’s arguing with what sounds like some douche kidnapper. Thinking maybe a ransom gone AWOL?”

The line was crackling as it sounded as though Sam were scrounging about through a room of scattered materials. Then he responded. “Could be, wait I think I see them over in my position. They’re in a storage unit.”

“Yah, that’s where I’m stationed man, but I don’t see you.” 

“I’m down the other end.” Sam confirmed. “There’s a dude lying unconscious here, hold on.” The line went dim; seconds later the hunter’s voice piped up more cautiously and erratically in the cell. “Dean…it’s the guy I bumped into back at the motel earlier today.” 

The conversation commencing before the Winchesters on opposite sides was heating up forcibly; more earth shattering. Dean wasn’t prepared for the next occurrence when the back end of the figure lunged at the suit in glasses. This was usually Dean’s que to charge in and save the poor bastard before things escalated badly. But as he stood up, closing his phone preparing to rush at the menacing faceless body; suit and glasses boy’s angry face, closed his spectacles into his suit jacket and distorted into a hideously frightening green reptilian-like mug.

Dean’s eyes practically bulged out of his head slack-jawed; stalled in his tracks. “What the hell! Hey!” 

The sound of surprise within his voice bounced off the walls of the warehouse as the monster which was once a young man wearing the snappy suit attempted to charge at the figure; it didn’t connect. Dean’s hunter instincts got the better of him and he viciously sprinted across the storage room towards the suited lizard creature; tackling it to the ground. Sam shouted at the older Winchester in the background; firing his gun in the direction of the escaping figure while Dean rolled and scuffled with the monster. 

“You fucking dick!” the creature roared at the hunter; pushing him aside. “You’re letting him get away!”

Dean glare at the monster; realizing he’d dropped his colt and fished out one of his knifes from his belt. “Sorry peaches,” he snickered cockily, “Guess you’ll just have to settle for what they serve in Hell; cause you ain’t walking outta here alive.”

Furiously the lizard creature pounced after Dean; growling, snapping its drooling snake-like fangs with a combination of assorted kung-fu maneuvers. The hunter did his best to counter the series of intense punching and kicking attacks thrown at him; getting knocked down frequently; the creature was fiercely strong, fast and too agile for the hunter’s brawling/mixed martial arts technique. What the hell was this guy? Godzilla Chuck Norris? He’d never fought anything like it.

“Dean! Dean!” Sam shouted behind him. “I can’t get a clear shot!”

“The heart!” Dean exclaimed as the monster grabbed him by the neck hoisting him in the air; threatening to tear it open with his razor teeth. “Aim for the heart Sammy!”  
In the corner of his eye, Dean could see his brother responding efficiently taking a shot from behind the creatures back. The sudden impact of the bullet ripping through flesh caused the monster to howl in pain; releasing its grip from Dean’s throat. However the shot did nothing except seem to piss the lizard creature off even more.

“Ah you asshole!” the foul-mouthed monster hollered through gritted teeth, spinning around to face Sam; twisting his arms behind his shoulders reacting to the pain of the bullet. Abruptly his face reverted back to its human form which consternated Sam; its blue eyes glowering hungrily back at the tall hunter as his top lip rolled into a snarl. “That fucking hurt!”

Now was Dean’s chance to use this distraction and make his move. What he didn’t count on was the other dark haired man who’d been lying unconscious most of the time to randomly intervene. Dean’s gripped knife suspended in mid-air preparing to slew the black suited reptilian beast in the back. BANG! An explosion broke the sound barrier and possibly the Winchesters’ eardrums as another bullet whiplashed past Dean’s body just barely missing his hair by an inch. 

When the older Winchester looked up stunned he was staring ten feet from the barrel of a Remington Model 870 held by another young man; late twenties, average height, scruffy around the face with a black flame tattoo going up the right side of his neck. He was also dressed in a similar black suit as the lizard creature now sporting its human disguise. His dark eyes just glazed in sardonic calm fury; aiming his shotgun at Sam’s head; who’d responded by dropping his Beretta raising his hands submissively.

“Hey! Dukes of Hazzard!” the tattoo suited man scowled threateningly. “Get the fuck away from my brother!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Next up the Winchesters and the Geckos square off verbally. Stay tuned! ;)


	4. Chapter 3

Cross Meat-Packing Warehouse…

2 hours earlier…

 

Dusk kissed the earth as the gleaming headlights belonging to a shiny black 60s Mercury pulled into the vacant lot of Cross Meat-Packing. Richie sat inconscient for the past several minutes during the drive; gazing into the time capsule of his cell-phone. Flipping through photos of the last time the Geckos and Fullers were all together since the whole ordeal with Amaru. 

They were at a carnival in Texas celebrating Kate’s nineteenth birthday during late hours since Scott and Richie obviously couldn’t venture out in the sun without frying like bacon. It was warm but there was a slight breeze that night which kept them cool; air perfumed with buttered popcorn and funnel cakes. Kate had never been on a rollercoaster sheltered as she was growing up and Richie wasn’t comfortable in crowds but he really wanted to do something special for her. After an hour of twisting Seth’s arm in convincing him to take them all out for some fun; he gave in. 

Richie would flip through picture after picture of the various activities they did, slightly smirking to himself; the Drop of Doom, Seth and Scott competing against each other at the carnival games attempting to win prizes for Kate, the Geckos doing their signature handshake, Seth mischievously pointing at a sexy magician chic, Scott holding a paper plate with a pink lit cupcake while Kate blew out the candle, trying delicious carnival foods such as cotton candy and even fried rattlesnake much to Richie and Scott’s apprehension. And yes Kate got to ride her rollercoaster; loving every second of it despite how terrified she looked. The vampire quietly chuckled in his throat observing the way the wind had frizzled her hair; Kate looked like she’d been zapped with bolt of lightning.

There were even a few group shots of the Geckos and the Fullers; some with silly poses, Kate wearing a ridiculous clown nose; Richie the stiff looking one in the bunch. His favorite was one Scott had taken of Richie in between Seth and Kate; the two most important people in his life. That day was the first time since Richie could remember being the happiest and normal; like he and Seth had just discovered actual fun in all the years of living in hell….like they were all a family. And for a brief moment Richie could pretend the Fuller kidnapping, the Titty Twister and Amaru were just some nightmare he’d concocted. But of all this frozen nostalgia there was just one that Richie’s finger would pause on; the selfie Kate took with him standing in front of the Merry-Go-Round. 

“Richie common, take this with me!” she beamed in flashbacks taking his hand and pulling him towards the iron gate; explaining that she’d wanted to document the time they spent together. Pictures weren’t exactly Richie’s forte yet with Kate…she hardly had to ask. He was there at her side without hesitation. 

The photo was a little out of focus, bits of Kate’s brown hair which smelt of sweet strawberries raveled in front of her porcelain face and Richie was wearing an awkwardly blank expression yet the hidden meaning behind it made him swallow hard. He remembered thinking in that moment how much he wished she could stay with him always. Kate looked so stunning with the colorful lights catching the warmth of her soft green eyes; complimenting the smile which would’ve moved the sun itself. You almost wouldn’t have thought she’d known pain; that Amaru’s possession hadn’t deeply tortured her that she’d never felt those two fatal bullets of Carlos’s gun ripping through her abdomen, that Seth and Richie hadn’t held her family at gunpoint or that her mother took her own life. None of these things existed when he looked at this photo. 

And the longer Richie surveyed Kate’s slightly blurry portrait the more it hurt. If only he could see her face again; hold her and tell her the truth… The vampire could never admit to Seth out loud how much he blamed himself for Kate and her brother’s abduction. She was the very reason he couldn’t sleep anymore; for fear that he’d wake up and find out she was dead…again. Or barely ate except for drinking one horchata earlier at the Big Kahuna Burger and of course feeding off of Cross a few days ago. The one thing that kept him going on drained battery fluid was Kate Fuller.

Tears began to laminate Richie’s wan blue irises as all the times he’d failed her came flooding back like a guilt-ridden tidal wave. Immediately he shut his eyes attempting to block it out; putting his palm to his forehead in shame. It was too much. Thinking about Kate like this was too hard. Just as he thought he’d successfully subdued the agony; flashbacks of the rain, green eyes staring back at him and soft lips upon his jolted his memory like someone had plunged a knife into his skull. Within that time he didn’t even auscultate the engine of the cougar shutting down. And he could’ve sworn he heard his name being called repeatedly. 

“RICHIE!” Seth barked for the thousandth time; causing the vampire to abruptly snap back into reality. His brother’s face was bleak, furrowing his eyebrows disoriented; hands still clutching the stirring wheel. “I said we’re here. What are you deaf?”

Richie instantaneously yet subtly rubbed at his eyes before Seth got suspicious and set his cell back in his pocket; setting his jaw surrendering to his stoic composed exterior. It was better this way. Pretending not to feel anything was better than what he was actually feeling at that moment. 

“Eat me dickwad.” He shot back icily; throwing open the car door.

Seth disregarded his brother’s stale response; mirroring the culebra’s actions. 

Only a few street lamps above the vehicle shone down on the brothers in suits as they stepped out onto the pavement; dry autumn leaves crunching beneath their shoes. There were cracks in the cement where weeds and other sorted plants were spouting. The air was crisp; hot enough to burn their skin into cinders. Luckily it being evening hours Richie didn’t have to worry about turning into an ashtray. Seth on the other hand was sweating beads above his brow; droplets seeping into the bandage of his cut.

The 3-story rectangular silhouette of the deteriorating factory stood before them from behind the protective barrier of a rusted chain-linked fence. Above Seth could see black crows circling about in the reddish-violet sky hunting for food; possibly trash thrown around in the area. It still gave him the creeps thinking of that old Hitchcock flick The Birds. 

That movie was one of Richie’s favorites growing up; why? Seth wasn’t sure. All he knew was he never wanted to own a pet parakeet or any type of bird after watching it. Fortunately the older Gecko brother had grown out of that phase; more confident that nothing could spook him at this point with his knowledge of serpent-vampires and Xibalban demons lurking in the shadows; camouflaged from civilian eyes.

Scanning their surroundings for other trespassers the Geckos exchanged sublime expressions; taking in the eerie scenery.

“Guess the Manson family closed early for business, huh,” Seth mimicked sarcastically under his breath. Scratching the back of his hair; leaning against the car top. “I don’t like this Richard; it’s too quite. Something doesn’t smell right.” 

“No that would be your obnoxiously fragrant cologne brother,” the vampire gibed dully; shooting Seth a wry facial gesture, “which has been contaminating my nostrils for the past several hours.”

The older Gecko’s unamused taut dark eyes instantly pierced into Richie’s pale complexion; clearly the vampire had hit a nerve. “Excuse me but this is vintage AXE, so shut the fuck up.”

Richie only shrugged with a lopsided grin. “Whatever. All I’m saying is if we go in there not knowing what to expect; I wouldn’t want to be wearing that shit.” The young culebra pointed directly at his mortal sibling; increasing the intimidation within his voice. “We won’t be able to accumulate the element of surprise with you smelling like a damn air-freshener. That’s catnip for predators; might as well put a giant sign on your forehead that says: All You Can Eat.” 

“Whoa your wit never ceases to astound me Richard,” Seth scoffed irritably; closing the driver’s door of the cougar. “Now are we are gonna do this shit or just stand around yacking all night.”  
“I’m serious brother. We don’t know what the fuck we’re up against; and with you still human you’re pretty much a walking target.” Richie snorted, shutting his passenger-side door; bustling behind his mortal sibling around to the trunk for extra guns they kept hidden. “Just be grateful I’m around to cover your ass whenever the shit hits the fan; like for instance…when Cross went Darth Vader on you.”

Seth jerked his hand up in front of the vampire’s face dismissively; popping the trunk. “Richard for the last time, shut up alright!” He barked rummaging through the back searching for his favorite rifle; one that he usually fought over with his preternatural sibling. “I know what you’re doing; I’m not an idiot.”

“What am I doing?” Richie’s forehead puckered.

“Cut the smartass bullshit, you know exactly what you’re doing,” Seth grunted jerking his head up from the trunk; glaring back at his culebra sibling. “You’re trying to excuse your stupid recklessness of dropping bodies in front of the local badges while we’re in the middle of saving the Preacher’s offspring. Not really a brilliant move for two people that are supposed to be dead numb-nuts! I mean what the fuck is wrong with you Richard?”

“It was one guy Seth! And he was trying to kill you.”

“Yah one guy, it’s always ONE GUY isn’t it Richard?!” sputtered the older Gecko brother; bouncing off on all cylinders. “Well we could’ve used that ONE GUY as leverage to help us find those damn kids. But no, you went and screwed that plan.”

“Oh I’m sorry I thought I was saving your life back there.” Richie deadpanned; giving his human brother the stink eye.

“I don’t give a shit; frankly I’m done chasing you around over this,” Seth sneered; pinching the bridge of his nose in effect to push back a headache. “And you can save the sanctimonious platitudes for someone who gives a rat’s ass.” He added sharply diving back into the trunk. “The only life I’m leading is in the sunlight amongst the human race. So your attempts to suck me into the snake-pit with you; never fucking happening.”

Seth’s insults usually got under Richie’s skin; this particular time was no different. He was the king of insensitivity. Yet somehow he’d always managed to find a way to hurt the vampire a little extra; by throwing his infliction back in his face. Didn’t Seth get it? Did he really believe that Richie wanted to live forever without him? More importantly did he really think Richie ever wanted to condemn his brother to an eternity of misery; killing and feeding off souls knowing the damage it was doing to him psychologically and emotionally? The young culebra knew Seth thought of him as a monster as much as Richie himself deep down believed it to be true. Staring back at the barrel of Dakota McGraw’s shotgun made him realize it.

Instead of rancorously holding onto Seth’s degrading remarks; the culebra began to chortle mirthlessly. This reaction only befuddled his mortal sibling. 

“Please, you really think I’d want to look at your stupid ass for eternity,” Richie deflected; sincerely hoping to counteract the bitterness Seth had flung at him. His older sibling’s expression remolded into distant lament; Richie succeeded. But he didn’t stop. “Don’t flatter yourself brother I’m not that desperate. You wouldn’t last a day in my world.”

Seth only soughed and pulled out the Remington Model 870; cocking it dauntingly in front of the culebra as he shut the trunk. “Nice. Let’s just get this shit over with.”

Arguing was only wasting precious minutes; who knew if the Fullers even had that much longer depending on Willet’s agenda. Instead of carrying on their usual kindergarten banter; they shrugged it off. Jaunting for the chain-linked fence in a huff, the Gecko brothers squeezed through an opening; careful not to rip their suits. 

“I feel like a delinquent sneaking into a junk yard.” Seth grumbled under his breath. Richie just rolled his eyes at him.

Stalking evasively through the tall grass towards the warehouse entrance; like a couple of wild cats. And stepping through the threshold onto the concrete floor of the hollowed out space ransacked with old boxes, scattered parchment, and dismembered chairs tossed at every angle; Seth and Richie defensively aimed their guns in front of them 

It was quiet. Too quiet. And the smell left something to be desired. Richie almost wished he was breathing in Seth’s galling cologne. 

“On second thought I take it back,” the culebra admitted matter-of-factly sniffing the repellent odor; procuring the main floor top to bottom as the fading orange glow of the sky bounced off the broken glass of the windows. “I’d rather smell you than this shit.”

“Yah ha-ha, very funny asshole.” Seth retorted sarcastically; glancing up at the bright colored graffiti letters and symbols plastered on the walls of the rotting facility. Kids. Didn’t they have anything better to do than vandalize? “Look let’s just circle around the place; see if anything comes up. You said you saw ranger Willet hanging his hat here with Cross; maybe they were slumming it together.”

“In this dump?” Richie’s appalled voice echoed in the background. Then it evenly settled. “They’d have been better off getting a cheap discount at The Dew Drop Inn.” The vampire quipped dryly; promptly switching topics. “Besides I didn’t say ranger reseeding hair-line was going to actually be here. He’s not that stupid based on what I saw inside Cross.”

“Then why the hell are we even here Richard? For my health?” Seth’s vexation was reaching its limits. 

“Guys like Willet and Cross keep places like this because they’ve got something to hide.” The vampire imputed; noticing the cobwebs and even a wasp’s nest high up in the rafters. “It’s the oldest movie cliché brother. Ford didn’t wander into that warehouse in Raiders of the Lost Ark and come out empty handed did he?”

Seth shrugged idly then acquiesced. “I was thinking more along the lines of 1944’s The Uninvited but whatever I’ll take what I can get.”

Synchronously the Geckos brothers ventured further into the darkened musty tomb of the rickety establishment. Seth’s Remington tightened to his shoulder while Richie’s nocturnal vision guided them through the wreckage of another quarter; passing patina rusted pipes and down a corridor of decaying slaughtering stalls. And something amongst the aroma of rotten corpuscles hit the vampire’s sinuses; agitating him. He could almost taste it in his mouth; that sweet, warm, coppery texture. 

Blood. Fresh blood. The conduit of the soul; dancing seductively across Richie’s tongue. It tormented his stomach into burbles; he’d almost forgotten how hungry he’d been since the Fullers’ abduction. Even being around Seth half the time was tortuous; the equivalent of waving a juicy steak in front of him. Cross’s soul although succulent didn’t quite hit the spot; yet it did surprisingly give his powers a peculiar edge.

“Leatherface better be out of town,” Seth muttered antsy behind his much taller sibling; peering up at the meat hooks dangling above his head. “I’m not looking forward to getting my ass skewered in here.”

Richie glanced over his shoulder at Seth; shaking his head with a smug crack tugging at his lips. “Would you stop bitching?”

“Hey that movie was based on a true story!”

“Just shut up for a second.” Richie snapped back within a whisper at his overzealous mortal brother; when he’d sensed unusual inaudible clatters ahead of them mingled into the vibrant scent of blood. “Listen…do you hear that?”

“Hear what?!” Seth breathed erratically. “Richard what the hell?”

“We’re not alone brother. Someone’s here; I can smell blood.”

The older Gecko let out an exasperated groan. “Great. We’re like fucking lambs to the slaughter.”

Making their way through plastic green tinted strip doors of what used to be a refrigerating room; the Gecko brothers huddled against the eroding egg-white concrete wall separate from an upcoming section of the warehouse. Richie popped his head around the corner where he’d heard shuffling in the dark and blood perfumed the air with its metallic richness; but there was nothing in his sights. He couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Emptiness in what looked like a storage unit littered with a few dust ridden crates; crushed up soda cans and other sorted garbage the rats were probably poking at.

The vampire licked his lips wolfishly; unlocking the safety on his silver Taurus PT99 with his thumb and boldly drifted into the room; Seth and his Remington trailing not far behind. Skulking into the wide space like two sniper commandos from their Call of Duty video games; the Geckos halted in their tracks when both of them were overcome with what sounded like ambiguous slurping and chewing clamors coming from between one of the broken crates. The closer they drew the louder and more savage the sounds were getting; sending chills up Seth’s spine. 

“Richie what the fuck is that?” he whispered jittery.

The young culebra’s stale voice was grim in his response. “Nothing good.”

The older Gecko brother flung the sleeve of his suit jacket over his nose when an unpleasant draft penetrated his nostrils. What the hell was that fouling stench? He’d known stiffs that didn’t reek half as bad as this; struggling to contain the urge to vomit. The sticky sweat pouring down Seth’s face didn’t help either. Richie’s head twitched like a spasmodic addict; nose flaring hungrily over the scent of youthful soul spilling onto the desecrated cement platform; shifting his mood from placid to anxiously indignant. 

Squinting their eyes the ex-criminal brothers noticed a black silhouette hunched over in a feral position; gnawing on something slimy in its hands.

A mild beam of twilight shone through one of the tall windows behind the Geckos; exposing the backside figure obscured amidst two demolished wooden containers, crouching before a carcass. Wet crunching of teeth against a squishy substance pierced the disconcerting, malodorous atmosphere. As Seth and Richie approached; nerves on edge they realized the assailant was gnawing on a thick stringy glob of viscera which it had ripped clean from the stomach cavity of its victim. But it wasn’t a dead animal. Seth’s adam’s apple began bobbing rapidly peering into the carcass’s ghostly white face of a hoodlum boy no older than seventeen. 

Richie’s right arm shot up protectively in front of Seth as the creature grunted dropping part of its meal from its grasp; landing on the solid floor with a gooey SPLAT! Now their hearts were racing as the thing’s neck crackled; head slowly but surely spun a 180 near Exorcist twist. The older Gecko brother almost felt himself jump out of his skin once he and Richie locked gazes with its dead ivory sheened irises underneath a curtain of matted greasy bangs. Putrid face smudged and dripping with ruby contents; slopping from its lips down its t-shirt to the floor. It was horrifying. The thing grilled its red-stained teeth; discharging gurgling snarls causing whatever fluids or fleshy bits residing inside its trap to spit out.

“W-what the fuck?!” Seth blurted raising his shaking rifle at the creature; tremors jolting his whole body as if an unexpected bombshell had expelled him.

Richie on the other hand kept steady. Stunned by the creature yet he couldn’t help curiously analyzing it; there was something oddly familiar about its face. Like he’d seen it somewhere before. Damn it why now? If his brother knew he’d gone into serious scientist mode while being accosted he was sure to get a smack for it later if they survived tonight. He watched vigorously as it jerked its body upward, bones creaking like tree branches; staggering to its feet.

“Hey isn’t that…” the vampire trailed off peculiarly; brows snapping together. But it couldn’t be who he was thinking could it? 

Suddenly the decaying varmint’s bloody jaws snapped wide open like a hungry predator threatening to strike; releasing a high-pitched shriek as it lunged for the Gecko brothers. Killer aptitude kicked in and they simultaneously fired a shot; hitting it square in the chest. To their dismay the bullets went in; spirting out tar-like inners but the creature didn’t go down as they hoped. Weren’t there stake bullets in their guns? Why didn’t that kill it?

“Richie what the hell?!” Seth exclaimed panic-stricken as he turned to his preternatural sibling; withdrawing from the drooling thing. “Why didn’t that work?”

“I don’t know,” Richie’s voice was nearly unreadable and more voracious; shielding his mortal brother best as he could. Anticipating another attack from the varmint. 

“S-snakes are supposed to go fucking down when we shoot at them right?!” the older Gecko brother rattled; slurring his words. “So why the hell isn’t he biting the dust?”

“This isn’t a culebra Seth.”

The humanoid monster let out another bellowing roar; Seth and Richie fired again only they’d missed as it sprinted out of dodge and into the cloak of darkness. They couldn’t see it anywhere. Now it was hunting them; circling around them in the shrouded gloom of the storage unit. Seth and Richie were basically sitting ducks aiming their weapons in opposite directions at dark spaces; watching for moving shadows. 

“FUCK?!” Seth croaked intermittently; shuffling aimlessly all over the trashed room as his nerves got the better of him. Up until this moment he thought he could handle anything; but this? He wasn’t ready for more of the Freak Show. “THE HELL WAS THAT RICHARD?!

“I’ve never seen anything like it.” The young culebra in glasses nonchalantly replied; stalking the area for signs of the creature. Licking his lips he adapted to lower another bomb on his traumatized human sibling. “But I recognized his face…” Something stirred in the dark provoking Richie to switch positions; aiming his Taurus to the left. “And not to shit anymore in your cereal brother but ah... I think it was…Cross.”

Seth immediately shot Richie and incredulous facial exterior. He wasn’t having any of it. “Cross is dead Richard! He’s fucking dead! You killed him I watched you rip his damn throat out!”  
The culebra suddenly felt prickles of antagonism; getting his back up. 

“Then how the hell do you explain what we just saw?!” Richie snapped furiously; gesticulating at his brother. 

“I can’t! I don’t know what the fuck I just saw,” stammered Seth; clutching his rifle tightly; aiming the long barrel in random spots. “But it ain’t Cross that I’m sure!” he tried to pace himself; raking his fingers through his dark hair. “No, what I want to know is why the hell is he full on trying to Silence of the Lamb us?!” 

“I bit him Seth!” Richie scolded frigidly; creasing his forehead offensively. “I didn’t inject any venom into him. And yet he damn well turned into something didn’t he!”

“It’s not Cross it can’t be! Son of a bitch is fertilizer!”

At that instant the culebra threw his mortal sibling a cryptic glance over his shoulder. “Exactly. Dead!” strangely Richie’s stern voice ignited divulge with an unsettling calmness; shrugging his shoulders which only agitated his brother. “Well…more or less.”

“That’s ridiculous. Dead people don’t walk around Richard,” Seth protested smartly; scrutinizing the vampire, “That’s why they’re dead.”

The vampire’s eyebrows waggled cynically. “I’m sorry but didn’t we just tussle with Brasa’s deadhead cowboys back at the ghost town five months ago?”

Seth gave a dismissive wave of his hand; congregating another demurred excuse in his mind. “Oh that? That wasn’t zombies those were…demonically possessed skeleton things in hombre hats. And they weren’t trying to eat us.”

“They were still dead.”

“It doesn’t count Richard!”

The vampire’s brows knitted in an are-you-serious format; like his brother had just said the dumbest thing the world. 

“And what term would you use to describe my existence then, brother? I’m technically dead.”

“Undead!” the older Gecko interjected quickly; gesturing his hand up in front of the culebra. Convinced the situations were completely different. “You’re undead Richard. And anyways you’re more snake than Dracula.” He heard shuffling behind him and spun around unhesitant but there wasn’t a trace of the thing. “Do you see him anywhere?”

“No.” Richie grumbled; stirring the topic around; something of which annoyed the hell out of Seth. “So…by your logic dead people can only walk around as long as they’re culebras or possessed skeletons. Good to know; might want to mention that to Cross when he shows up. ” 

“You really want to argue about this now?! Richie we’re in the fucking middle of trying to avoid being the main course here!” Seth chided bitterly; focused on his Remington. “Cross is dead and there ain’t no damn coming back from that!”

“There is if he’s a zombie.” The vampire fired back stoically. 

That was it. Seth had reached his limit with his preternatural brother. Of all the idiotic things to suggest that was about the worst crock he’d ever heard. Sure the guy or thing looked dead-ish and it was munching on what use to be a punk kid. Seth knew what was out there; he’d witnessed it. But it was impossible. Stubborn as the older Gecko brother was he was not inclined to descend down that rabbit hole of absurdity. 

“Richard I’ve already accepted vampires, demons and otherworldly dimensions into my life,” the older Gecko brother deadpanned; stalling in front of the culebra who’d tirelessly gawked at him with a sullen glare. “Hell I’ll even let you have Big Foot as a possibility. But there ain’t no fucking way I’ll swallow any of your Dawn of the Dead bullshit.”

Suddenly before Richie had time to foresee the next assault and grab Seth out of the way; the monster they were hunting shrieked charging out of the shroud at lightning speed; as if it were an uncontrollable bus ramming into them. Its strength was so intense that the impact suspended the older Gecko brother in mid-air; he shouted flinging his arms above his head diagonally as the rifled detached from his grip; bracing himself for a painful landing. Sure enough Seth catapulted straight into another crate; shattering the wood into chips that spurted everywhere.

“SETH!” the vampire cried out in a panic; rushing to his brother’s seemingly lifeless body amongst the rubble. Aghast overwhelmed him as he crouched down to feel for a pulse; it was just faint but there. Thank god; he could breathe a sigh of relief.

Immediately Richie was overcome with a convulsive rage; glowering back at the rotting creature lumbering twenty paces from him. It was wearing an unusual satisfied grin on its face. No one messed with his brother. NO ONE. A bull being antagonized was one thing but a super-powered reptilian-vampire was a whole other ball of wax; because Richie was seeing red. 

“YOU FUCK!” He snarled with inhuman vocal cords; flaring his nostrils stampeding towards the dead thing that resembled Maximillian Cross. 

“I don’t think so!” snapped the creature in a gurgling raspier voice; blood discharging from its mouth; raising one of its soiled hands and flicking its wrist halting the vampire in his tracks. Richie was beguiled; ire deflating from his face. He didn’t count on that twist. One minute the thing was a feral killing machine like something out of a Romero flick the next it was spouting off as if it were a regular Joe. 

Twilight Zone much!

“Take one more step…and I’ll kill him for sure,” it hissed; issuing its attention over at the unconscious Seth. “Well…I’ll kill him once my boss gets what he needs; but you get the idea.”

Richie attempted to sooth his fury ran his hands through his hair. “Just who the fuck are you?!” he demanded squaring his broad shoulders; brow creasing and pupils dilating.

“Common don’t play stupid with me Gecko; you’re not that naive,” growled the undead abomination; circling him. And the culebra carefully Xeroxed the unsettling image into his mind. 

Clad in a grey t-shirt splattered with fresh entrails and jogging pants; probably stolen from a previous victim Richie thought noticing its bare feet. Tangled dark wet hair flopped over his forehead. An ashen pallor with exposed blue veins; oily and thin with aging spots where his flesh was starting to break down. Richie could still see the autopsy stitching marks peeking through the collar of his shirt. Tissue damages from his neck where he’d been savagely torn by the culebra’s teeth; decaying and oozing with black goo. Its gangly crooked frame lurched flexibly reminding the vampire of Pumpkinhead; amazing that he possessed such strength to knock Seth into the far end. Sunken ivory bags under its moonlit glazed eyes; speaking in a fiendishly alluring tenor. 

“You know exactly who I am.” It leered.

“Cross…” That name was like acid incinerating in the pit of the vampire’s gut. It was impossible. Richie shook his head in disbelief. Everything inside was screaming at him; reminding him that he’d ripped this man’s throat open and sucked him dry; felt his life slip beneath his clutches. He could still see the wounds on its throat. Residue of his blood was still lingering in his veins. He killed this man for what he’d tried to do to Seth; for what he’d done to other people. “But how…you’re…” 

“Dead?” the hideously sinister varmint beamed; chortling amusingly. “Not entirely.”

“I…killed you.” Richie scrunched his face; gesticulating suspiciously. “I watched you die!”

“Yes you did. But here’s a little tidbit for you kiddo,” taunted the creature matter-of-factly; pausing in front of the vampire. “When you murder a Xibalban necromancer and they’re revived by a fellow member of their faction…they sorta tend to…come back as a reanimated. Guess you’ll have to try harder next time.”

“Don’t push me bitch!” The younger Gecko brother growled fiery. His body overheating.

The corpse threw back its head and let out a sadistic cackle; clapping its hands as if to applaud the aggressively amped vampire with mockery. Richie’s teeth started grinding; the itch to tear this bastard’s head off was becoming excruciatingly difficult to resist. 

“Ooh you’ve got spunk kid I’ll give you that. And I gotta say…I’m intrigued you actually showed up here; must have a death wish or something.” The corpse shifted attention to his hand with Richie’s incision mark; waving it in front of the vampire. “Then again you went to great lengths to peek inside my soul… That little lady of yours…must be a real special thing. Uniquely touching that a culebra cares for humans; in the old days they were just meat bags to you people.” 

Richie could feel his whole body surging with adrenaline; yet he kept cool for the sake of his brother. “Where is she?!” he sneered; curling his top lip.

“Your friends aren’t here if that’s what you’re insinuating.” Cross pipped at Richie darkly; examining the viscera residue under his finger nails and putting them in his mouth to suck off what was left. “They’re having a grand ol’ time at his killer pad.”

“Who?!”

A half-moon smirk tugged at the corners of the corpse’s drying crimson lips; glaring at the young culebra as if waiting for him to guess. “Don’t you know? The one who gripped me tight and raised me from perdition of course.”

Wheels in Richie’s head started spinning as he stood there processing the information bit by bit. While he agonized inside to shred this monster at the very least he could put that brain into gear and worry about the messy stuff later. Seth and the Fullers were counting on him to keep his shit together just long enough to figure out Cross’s agenda. Then a name popped in his mind.

“You mean Willet? He revived you?” the zombie nodded but Richie’s suspenseful curiosity took control. “He’s a ranger and a necromancer?”  
Cross’s decaying face was plastered with devilish glee; rolling his tongue around in his mouth. “The very best Xibalba ever had to offer. Until…all of us were exiled unfortunately…”

“If he’s such a big cheese how come Xibalba kicked him to the curb?”

“That’s a story meant for another time kiddo,” the corpse countered. “Not that you’ll live long enough to ever hear it.”  
Richie disregarded the minuscule threat. Questions kept racing inside his mind; his composed state began to pry the corpse for further details like an interrogating police detective. 

“So you’re dead huh, how the hell are you even talking without a speech imperative? I mean aren’t you supposed to be grunting, groaning and shambling about like every other clichéd Resident Evil goon out there?”

Cross rolled his sunken eyes at the vampire; sighing. “Kids these days; consuming too much fiction.” Then his face depicted an eerie playfulness. “Those rules don't apply to me. I was a centuries old necromancer when I had a pulse. It’s all in the core of a person kid. The more entrails I consume from the living the better I retain my former consciousness. Nifty trick huh?”

Richie let out an arrogant scoff; unconvinced. “Nifty? Not even the Kardashian’s plastic surgeon could get you walking around in crowded areas again buddy. And no one says ‘nifty’ anymore.”

“Yah but the impeccable strength I’ve acquire as a reanimated; comes in handy doesn’t it?”

No more beating around the bush with this guy; the vampire demanded answers. “What the hell does Willet even want with Kate; she’s got nothing to do with any of this!”

 

“On the contrary the queen’s vessel has a part to play in this.” Cross chortled grotesquely; blood gurgling in the back of his throat then spitting out of his lacerated neck wounds where Richie had bitten him. “She’s just one piece of a large puzzle kiddo.” 

“That’s your plan; to resurrect Amaru?” surmised the culebra retorting as if he’d heard something ridiculous. While Richie didn’t fully understand the dangerous game he was playing he couldn’t help simpering with cockiness. And his composed mask structured. “Hate to break it to you Hoss but my brother and I already iced that crazy bitch five months ago; pretty sure we’ll be able to do it again. So your plan…it sucks.” 

Richie didn’t fathom the reaction he was about to receive when the undead creature abruptly froze statuesque. Tilting its head with a slight twitch; perpetually silent; eyes cynically sullen. Did he figure it out? Just as the vampire was growing weary of the vociferous atmosphere…something tickled in the back of Cross’s throat; delightful tremors shook throughout his body; opening his jaws to release a gloating eruption of laughter. The confident smugness on Richie’s complexion singed away as he swallowed hard; his chest anxiously heaving.

Cross’s animated laughter only increased exaltingly. And it was like a dark cloud had descended around the culebra; brain shutting down. For the first time ever…he felt vulnerable. Richie was foreboding of the unknown; what Willet was capable of. Of all the monsters and crazy obstacles he and his brother had encountered; nothing was more alarming than not knowing what was coming ahead. He hated this feeling. 

The Geckos were usually the ones who put the fear of God in anyone who dared mess with them. But…this creature…he wasn’t some local white hat the vampire and his brother were tangling with. This was not a situation they could easily shoot their way out of. Cross and Willet were something much more sinister than the Geckos could ever have recessed. Evil that not even Richie’s brain was prepared to comprehend.

“You think that’s what this is about?!” heckled the corpse threateningly. “Oh boy you have no idea what you’ve stumbled into do you? No idea of the shitstorm coming. Not a damn fucking clue.”

Struggling to regain his composure; Richie scowled as he vacantly deflected. “Well why you don’t fill me instead of standing there boring me to death like a little prick.”

“Willet has big plans not just for that girl come Day of the Dead;” snickered the corpse icily. “But for you and your brother kiddo.”

“What plans?! What does he want with me and Seth?”

“Gecko with your brains and talent I’m surprised you hadn’t figured it out yet.” Interjected the zombie; pacing side to side drinking in Richie’s bewilderment. “I guess that’s what six months of working as The Nine Lord’s pitiful Collectors will do for ya. But you had to have been suspicious at some point when you boys wandered down the beaten path; you think that was just a coincidence? No kiddo it was all part of the grand design.”

Richie was rubbernecking the undead creature dubiously; as it shambled like a scarecrow about to topple over. “The hell are you going on about?”

“Those clairvoyant powers you harnessed as a human weren’t enough of a hint? That wasn’t some silly parlor trick kiddo they were blessings from the very pits of Xibalba.”

How the hell did he know about that?! Richie’s eyes flung wide flabbergasted; pointing his gun directly between the corpse’s eyes. He so desperately wanted to shoot; put that thing back in the ground where it belonged. It took everything he had to hold back. 

“You’re saying what? That I’m part-Xibalban? And how the fuck do you even know about any of that?!

“Kid I know more about you Geckos than you do.” Chimed the corpse; extending his bony finger at the culebra’s temple. His glazed white eyes intensified. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you who you and your brother really are…the ancient prophecy? The divinities both of you possess? The Legendary brothers…los hermanos Gecko…The Hero Twins? Is any of this ringing a fucking gantlet kiddo?”

Richie’s jaw clenched glaring his rhinestone blue eyes dismissively; absorbing Cross’s flashy nicknames which a few he could recall. Only ever hearing his enemies recently refer to him and Seth as the “Legendary Brothers” or “Los Hermanos Gecko” from Carlos but he’d just assumed it was because their reputation as crooks and bank robbers preceded them. The vampire had never come across any prophecies calling out the Geckos by name while reading all those ancient Aztec manuscripts on Xibalba in his quest to stop Amaru; certainly nothing about some great destiny. 

“Admit it Richard,” Cross egged-on the suited glasses vampire; winking his cataracts eye. “You’re just dying to find out aren’t you; that nagging in the pit of your stomach?” the creature was now invading the culebra’s space. “That darkness brewing inside you...telling you where you truly belong… In Xibalba’s kingdom.”

This journey into the Underworld had taken Richie to places he never thought he’d go; changed his life forever. Since Richie received his clairvoyant abilities; following Santanico’s voice to his ultimate destination the Twister… he believed he always had a higher purpose; that it all led to something. And he was right. If only Seth were conscious to hear this.

Richie stood there letting it all sink in; expression twisting in agony. His past self wouldn’t have hesitated jumping on this in a heartbeat yet he was torn between shooting Cross and pressing him for deeper specific inquiries about this prophecy. Things had changed. He’d changed. There was only one thing the culebra cared more about at that moment and it wasn’t some ancient manuscript. 

Increasing the intensity of his voice Richie snorted. “Where are Kate and Scott Fuller?!”

Cross’s Mona-Lisa expression drained into a slack-jawed feat of disappointment; hanging his head irritably. “Back to that again? Kid you’re trying my patience here.”

Richie had reached his maximum control level; emotions hitting the ceiling cocking his gun at the dead thing’s head. Powerful feelings he could no longer contain; fighting as hard as he’d been doing for the past several minutes. The thought of Kate being harmed in any fashion sent him over the edge. Those memories of her death at the blood well haunted him. She and Scott were still being held captive. What the hell was he doing just standing around yacking about some dumb legend? Richie would never be able to forgive himself if anything happened to her.

“WHERE ARE THEY?!” the culebra’s flash of anger overtook his usual smoothly pale features; gripping the Taurus tighter in his palm.

Another chuckle rippled through Cross; the shiny glint of red drool dribbled down his chin and neck. 

“Let me explain something to you here,” he informed the culebra; locking his emotionless gaze. “I’m gonna kill your little mortal girlfriend and her adopted serpent sibling. And anyone else determined to help you Geckos. Then afterwards when Willet is finished with your brother; I’m gonna rip out his still-beating heart…and make you watch him die.” 

Ferocity was pulsating within the vampire as he snorted under a scarlet tinctured exterior; puffing his cheeks and squeezing his Taurus in his grasp leaving imprints on his palm. No one threatened Richie’s loved ones and lived to tell about it; how dare this bastard. Hatred was surging like boiling water within his icy blue irises; rearing to sink his teeth into Cross; shred him until there was nothing left to come back as anything. If he had to be a monster so be it as long as he got to take out this son of a bitch.

“FUCK YOU!” Richie seethed; teeth gritting clicking the safety on his gun.

Cross could only trill over the vampire’s bitterness. “Fight it all you want kid there’s nothing you can do to stop us. Circular Mortis is everywhere.” Then he cocked his decomposing head to one side; sardonic gurgle escaped his throat. “A storm’s coming and it’s coming hard and fast. Faster than you can even blink. You think Amaru and Xibalba were bad they were just the tip of the iceberg compared to what’s instore…you haven’t even begun to scratch the surface of Hell boy. Cause when it ascends everyone you care about; every person on this planet…dies!”

Without warning Cross launched at Richie chomping his jaws; swiping and clawing its rotten bony fingers knocking the culebra’s gun out of his hands. A sudden jolt of incense erupted throughout Richie as he cholericly removed his glasses in Clark Kent fashion, setting them into to suit jacket making way for the monster residing inside him; demanding release. As soon as his scaly, slit-eyed snake submerged; Richie hissed ferociously at Cross, protruding his gleaming fangs. 

But just as Richie was about to hurtle his whole body at the corpse; inconspicuous shouting from unknown voices punctured the desolated storage area allowing Cross to gain the upper hand. 

“What the hell!” a gruff male voice not belonging to Seth cried out apprehensively; bouncing off the walls of the warehouse. “Hey!” 

. Richie’s attack didn’t connect and the corpse jetted passed him with erratic rain of gunfire following close behind. 

“DEAN!” was the name the culebra heard another man shouting when out of nowhere another figure wearing a familiar bravado mug he’d seen earlier that day; was sprinting from the shadows heading right for him; checking into Richie’s gut using the excessive force of a football player; smashing his skull into the cement with a loud THUD! 

________________________________________

Cross-Meat Packing Warehouse…

Current time…

 

“Wait, ‘brother?!” Dean Winchester blurted holding up his hands; exchanging dubious squints at the man holding the rifle in his face and the taller suit retrieving his glasses; placing them back on. “This thing is your brother? On what side of the family tree; Jurassic Park?”

“I said hands up dipshit!” the shorter tattooed young man in the suit threatened; tapping his Remington barrel behind Sam Winchester’s shoulder. “Or I waste Gigantor with the surfer-due here.”

This was not their night. Just as the Winchesters thought they’d had a shot at closing this case things got even hairier…or scalier. Dean let out a loud bellowing sigh. There was a monster on the loose; he didn’t have time to dick around with a couple knuckle head kids who looked like they stumbled out of a business catalogue.

“Hey whoa easy there Hondo junior,” Dean sassed the tattoo suit; giving him a roguish look. “What do ya say we all just put our guns down and talk this out like rational adults huh?”  
There was a clicking noise behind the hunter’s ear; glancing carefully over his shoulder Dean realized the taller young man in the suit and glasses had managed to retrieve his Taurus off the ground; removing the safety. Judging by the way this guy prodded his gun into Dean’s neck, he wasn’t the socializing type. 

“Ah crap.” 

“Now you see how this works?” affirmed the suave tattoo suit; confident and leer. “I talk and you shut the fuck up; capeesh?” 

“Oh I’m sorry I missed the part about this being the audition for The God Father.” WACK! Dean let out a slight yelp the second his skull came into contact with the grip of suit and glasses boy’s Taurus. With that kind of strength the hunter was bound to wake up with a nasty bump in the morning; if he and Sam managed to live through the night.

“He said shut it.” Suit and glasses simpered icily; no more emotion than that of a machine. 

“Dean cut it out!” Sam exclaimed; his breaths quickening as he felt the barrel of the Remington poking his back. “You’re not exactly helping the situation here.”

“It’s okay Sammy, I got this,” Dean quipped unheedingly; shaking off the humiliating aftereffects of the blow. He wasn’t about to let some common crooks intimidate him or his brother. He had years of street smarts and skills under his belt over these guys; they were nothing special nor worth his attention. “I’ve known guys like this before; adrenaline junkies on an ego trip. These mundane asshats in GQ monkey suits aren’t gonna do jack.”

BANG! Immediately the barrel of the Remington went off again in Dean’s direction; but also nearly hitting his reptilian accomplice. It was obviously a warning shot because the hunter had the keen senses to recognize when someone was well experienced using firearms. This kid knew what he was doing; he’d fired plenty of guns in the past, maybe even killed civilians while doing so. Underestimating him or his creature-feature sibling would’ve been a bad turn out for the Winchesters.

“Is that real enough for you bravado?” the tattoo suit responded ominously; aiming his weapon back behind Sam’s head when he’d noticed him flinch. “Either you shut the fuck up or the next bullet goes into your Boy-toy’s brain.”

“Would you watch it with that thing!” the suit and glasses barked antagonistically at the tattoo suit; struggling to stay focused on Dean and his anger towards his tag team partner. Clearly that bullet had riled him up or he was just etching to lash out. “You almost hit me you prick!”

Tattoo suit boy shook his head with a miffed huff; rolling his eyes disparagingly as he tapped his foot. “Richard we’re kinda in the middle of something here. Now’s not the time to be worrying about your damn feelings.”

Suit and glasses looked like he was on the verge of nuclear explosion with the amount of fiery passion Dean depicted in his once composed expression; enough to singe the ice off from those baby blues. He scowled at his fellow accomplice; intensity rising within his voice. It was almost like tattoo suit’s insensitive brush-off had more than just offended suit and glasses. Sam and Dean did not want to be around when this argument escalated. 

“Really? In case you forgot those are stake bullets asshole!” snapped suit and glasses. “Which as you know CAN KILL ME?”

“What do you want me to do Richie huh?” tattoo suit deadpanned condescendingly; backing up from the taller Winchester gesturing his arms in frustration. “You want me to drop down on one knee and beg for your forgiveness? Get over it we’re on the clock.” 

Yep, the Winchesters thought synchronously on opposite ends; these troublesome two are definitely brothers. And it was scary how much they somewhat reminded Sam and Dean of a younger more crooked version of themselves. It was almost annoying.

“Trouble in paradise boys?” Sam etched swallowing, holding his hands up submissively; glancing over his broad shoulder at the shorter tattoo suit that’d immediately went back to defensively pointing the gun at his back. “Cause you know…my brother and I; we’ve got our fair share of crap as well. Usually, getting it off the table helps much more effectively than resorting to murder.”

Dean shot his taller younger brother an appalling look. “What are you, trying to Dr. Phil them now?!”

“It worked the last time with War of the Roses didn’t it?”

“ALRIGHT enough of the pissing contest!” tattoo suit flared; pushing the taller Winchester forward with his Remington and knocking him to his knees. “I want to know who the hell you two are and why the fuck you’ve been tailing me and my brother all day?”

“Excuse me what?” Dean was perplexed; trying to decipher the best possibly way to assess the situation without getting his head blown off by suit and glasses. But he couldn’t stand watching his brother being held at gunpoint by that little brat. “We don’t even know who you Bozos are. Is there a Blues Brothers convention in town or is this just your Halloween costumes?” 

“Cute. He’s got balls Richie.” Scoffed tattoo suit cunningly at his accomplice; pressing the tip of his barrel harder into Sam’s back which caused him to groan; glaring at Dean “Would you care to answer the question again or this gonna be the end of Double Jeopardy?” 

“Hey! Hey!” the older Winchester stammered; attempting to rush to Sam’s aid only to be stopped by suit and glasses. Dean’s humor fleeting at the image of his younger sibling being accosted inflamed him. The hunter fought hard not to show any emotion in front of the suits but when it came to Sam he was his one true weakness as much as his strength. Dean would die first before letting anyone harm a hair on his family. “If you want to point guns at someone, point them at me you son of a bitch! Quit pointing it at him!”

Tattoo suit caught on to Dean’s heartfelt outburst in an instant; switching glances between the Winchesters; screwing up his face. “What is it with you two anyway, Broke Back Mountain-ing up or something?”

Sam let out an exasperated sigh; rolling his green eyes. It was worse when he notice suit and glasses chuckling over the ridiculous overused movie reference. Sam’s anxiety was intensifying but he was flustered with bitterness. How in the hell did the Winchesters manage to allow these cat-walking numbskulls overpower them? It was humiliating. The younger Winchester was taller and possibly stronger than the man with the Remington who looked pretty worse for wear. The shaggy-haired hunter could take on tattoo suit any time; just had to wait for an opening to present itself.

“We’re brothers dickhead.” Sam groaned irritably; muscle twitching in his jaw.

Tattoo suit’s eyebrows lifted astonishingly at Sam. “Ah a two-fer huh? You wanna explain what the fuck you and your better half are doing here?”

“We weren’t after you.” The shaggy-haired hunter coughed; eyes darted exhaustingly at tattoo suit.

“Yah you weren’t exactly on our radar.” Dean added fierily with a quirk lingering on his lips.

“You were dressed like feds earlier; questioning some zit-faced kid at Kahuna. You're even staying at the same motel as we are,” suit and glasses tossed in stoically pursing his lips; pressing the end of his Taurus firmly into the skin of Dean’s neck; which increased his heart-rate. A prickly sensation overcame the hunter scrunching his eyes; the barrel was still warm from the last time this guy shot the weapon. “And now you look like a couple of idiots on the way to a homeless shelter. That’s not exactly a coincidence.” 

“Yah what’s with the K-Mart flannel/washed out jeans getup?” tattoo suit grimaced inquiringly; thoroughly scanning both the hunters. “Is it Casual Fridays down at the Bureau?”

“Actually brother, today is technically Saturday…” suit and glasses interjected spryly; then he checked his watch. “Wait no scratch that, it’s past midnight so it’s Sunday.”

“Really?” Tattoo suit winced scrunching up his face like he’d eaten a sour grape. “Anything else you’d like to share with the class Richard?”

Suit and glasses’ expression went innocently blank; eyes shifting side to side as if he’d missed something vital. “No.”

“Good then shut up.”

Dean’s face contorted into a sardonic lopsided smile; knitting his brow at tattoo suit. He could see the guy was visually hurting; the way he’d subtly try to hide his limp as he stood and casually press his free hand against his ribs whenever Sam wasn’t paying attention. The cut under a small bandage that had been healing above his eyebrow had split open; fresh blood trickling down his left cheek. Earlier tattoo suit had been lying unconscious among the rubble of broken crates; dormant for quite a while. Something roughed him up pretty badly. And if  
Sam wanted to he could easily use it to his advantage in their escape.

“Yah well at least we don’t take fashion tips from a douchey male-escort service.” The older Winchester mimicked; twisting his mouth amusingly. Suit and glasses clicked his Taurus in Dean’s ear; provoking him into silence. But it only earned him a snarky reaction from the hunter. “I can see you’ve got no sense of humour. What a shock.”

“We’re hunters.” Sam jumped in quickly before either of the suits got any homicidal ideas. He’d been watching his older brother boldly mouth off for the past several minutes and it was bound to get them both in trouble. These guys were armed killers; this was not their first rodeo. They had every intention to shoot Sam and Dean if it came to it. 

“Hunters?” tattoo suit boy grimaced; scrutinizing the Winchesters then exchanging unreadable expressions with his partner. “What like those trigger-happy rednecks out the woods shooting game for shits and giggles?”

Dean glared at him slyly. “As in…we hunt and kill monsters like salamander breath over here,” he’d jerked his head at suit and glasses; who gawked at him offensively with sullen eyes piercing like acid. “And when we get out of this oh and believe we will slugger,” the hunter confidently spewed back at tattoo suit; grinding his teeth. “I’m gonna bury my knife in your buddy and mop up that floor with what’s left of your face.” 

Tattoo suit let out an is-he-serious chortle cocking his rifle loudly at the taller Winchester; face drained of fret. Sam was practically kneeling next to a grenade that could go off at any time; if Dean proceeded to antagonize the two armed men holding them at gunpoint. The Winchesters had been accosted plenty of times during their over-a-decade-long career of ‘saving people and hunting things’. Whether their sinister captors were human or not, Sam and Dean had been trained excruciatingly to handle hostiles like this. Their father John Winchester had taught them to survive nearly anything; but not just psychically, intellectually. They were good at improvising when the chips fell.

Sam gawked long and hard at tattoo suit holding the Remington pointed at him; jaw clenching. He asserted this guy to be the ring leader of the duo; calling the shots this whole time. Even his creepy-crawly sibling placated to him which baffled the Winchesters. Monsters didn’t normally take kindly to their human accomplices bossing them around or talking down to them. And suit and glasses obviously had a mutual fondness with tattoo suit despite their sibling rivalry. Hunter’s instinct told Sam this guy wasn’t intimidated by them; that he’d been in enough scrapes and bruises to boost that level of smooth arrogance.

“That’s gonna be kinda tough with your brains splattered all over the concrete asshole.” The tattoo suit coolly fire back at older Winchester.

“Whoa dude easy with the vulgarity,” chimed Dean saucily. “You kiss your mother with that mouth?” Sam shook his head; frowning nervously at his brother in a lame attempt at silent charades; adam’s apple rapidly bobbling. Dean just threw Sam a lopsided grin. “Sammy what do ya say we hoes these douche-bags down. Anyone got a bar of soap?”

THWACK! Suit and glasses’ gun collided into Dean’s shoulder blades; sending him to his knees grunting. “Looks like we got ourselves a comedian brother,” he buzzed stalely with a sadistic grin; slightly crouching moving his piece under the hunter’s chin. “Wonder how funny it’s gonna feel when I shove this shit down your larynx. You’ll be begging me for the bullet.”  
Dean coughed; forehead puckering.

“Kid I don’t know what kind of freak you are and I really don’t give a crap,” scoffed the older Winchester; regaining his footing as he cautiously rubbernecked his assailant. “Cause I’ve ganked my thrill of ugly in the past but man…you give a whole new meaning to the word.” 

“DEAN!” Sam cried out panic-stricken as the color drained from his face; kneeling there helpless scrutinizing his foolish older sibling. 

“That’s it!” suit and glasses snarled; exasperatingly jamming his Taurus against the hunter’s temple. Dean had gotten under his skin; blown his fuse. If the older Winchester could just find an opening to turn the tables and grab that gun he and Sam would be ones questioning these punks. Dean could practically hear suit and glasses gritting his teeth as his cheeks throbbed. “I’m gonna waste this smartass bitch Seth; swear to God!” 

“Richard just calm down alright!” tattoo suit scolded his partner; gesticulated suit and glasses with an even tone as if a ringmaster was taming a ferocious lion. “This isn’t the place for one of your petty tantrums. We’re not gonna get any information out of Moulder and Scully here if they’re dead.”

“We don’t need to; I can swap blood with these malignant tools and be done with it. Save us from having to listen to any more of their bullshit.”

A line appeared between tattoo suit’s brows.

“Yah cause that plan worked out so well the last time didn’t it.” He retorted sarcastically; rubbing stress from his forehead. 

Suit and glasses boy’s eyes were like glacial daggers aimed straight for his partner. The Winchesters began to sense these boys had been at each other’s throats for most of the day; maybe  
even longer base on all the tension pent up between them. 

“How many times do I have to tell you Seth; HE WAS GOING TO KILL YOU!”

“That won’t count for shit if these assholes here get the drop on us while were standing around squabbling like idiots!” Tattoo suit harshly spat back at his accomplice; whom the older Winchester could hear growling like an animal under his breath. “So fucking put it away Richard and be cool!” 

Sam and Dean exchanged empathetic looks; oddly enough they could identify with these guys. They’d had thousands of arguments just like this; bickering, ridiculing, scolding at one another for their mistakes and short-comings. Through the veil of anger and bitterness the Winchesters saw deep affection between these boys; it was there in plain sight amongst the animosity. And it was enough to provoke the hunters into contemplating cooperation with the black suited duo. Maybe they knew something about the case they’d been on or Cross; seeing as how they all wound up at the same warehouse.

Sam shook his head shrugging off his nerves; steadying his hands as he watched tattoo suit spiking with lizard boy. The Winchesters’ lives were hanging in the balance. It wasn’t going to end well if these black suited boys decided to kill them and then each other. They needed a distraction.

“We weren’t following you guys; not originally,” Sam finally explained calmly; this earned him dubious gawks from both the suits and Dean. But Sam was confident that he could assess the situation with diplomacy. He didn’t entirely believe the suits were without any rationality. “My brother and I are here because…we were following a lead; on a case.” 

“Yah? A lead on what?” tattoo suit demanded. “Playing True Detectives now are we?”

“We were hunting for this guy name Maximillian Cross,” Dean admitted gruffly; twitching the muscle in his cheek.

There was an unusual pause. That name had somehow triggered both the suits as their faces instantly shifted from aggressive into twin quizzical expressions. Sam and Dean analyzed them suspiciously; recognition dawned on their faces as it seemed the men in black knew that name. 

“What the fuck do you know about Cross?” suit and glasses pressured the hunter with the barrel of his Taurus into the hunter’s shoulder threateningly. 

The older Winchester swallowed the urge to knock him between the spectacles and recounted his explanation further. “Well for one this is his warehouse.” The older Winchester’s mouth twitched. “And the other reason is we believe some crypt-keeping hombre sprung him from the pit; zombified him.”

Everyone was silent for a minute then Suit and glasses unexpectedly jumped in with a startling revelation.

“He’s a reanimated necromancer.” he clarified; with a chilling mechanical intelligence which stunned the Winchesters. “I know. We already ran into Mr. Tarman earlier munching on some poor kid back there.” He ushered the hunters’ attention to the mutilated corpse rotting between broken crates. “He told me a member of his faction…the Circular Mortis brought him back; among other things...” Then suit and glasses’ voice became wrathful bugging his eyes. “And I was about to take him out until you two morons had to storm in here like a bat outa hell and screwed it all up!”

“That was Cross?” Sam gasped; eyes fixated on suit and glasses. “The guy I was shooting at; pulling a Speedy Gonzalez?”

Suit and glasses fired a snark at Sam. “Yah and you let him get away. Nice job dumbass.”

“So it is frggin necromancers.” Dean gnashed his teeth under his breath; green eyes blazing. “Son of bitch!” 

“Alright enough of the powwow bullshit!” tattoo suit snapped flinging his arms and clicking his Remington at Sam to shut him up. Then he turned his attention back to his partner in crime. “Richard we’ve been over this, Cross is dead! I don’t know what the fuck that thing was but it wasn’t Cross okay. And he certainly wasn’t a necro-what’s-it.”

“Necromancer.” Sam corrected; which only agitated tattoo suit.

“Yah, whatever who cares!” he clipped; waving his free hand dismissively at the shaggy-haired hunter kneeling in front of him. “The point is that thing wasn’t Cross; it can’t be!”

“It was Cross, Seth.” Suit and glasses blared under mirthful eyes. “He told me so himself while you decided to Rip Van Winkle out on me!”

“Well excuse me smartass; you weren’t the one hurled 10 feet head first into a fucking crate by a supersonic decomposing freak you little shit!”

“Maybe if you had a thicker skull; you wouldn’t have had your ass handed to you brother!” scolded suit and glasses at his shorter accomplice; voice shaking with incense. “Or better yet maybe if you didn’t whine like a bitch all the damn time we wouldn’t be in these predicaments!” 

Tattoo suit eyebrows snapped up appallingly. “Oh so this is my fault now? Killing Cross in the first place and leaving a trail of bread crumbs for the local sheriffs, that was my fault? Just like The Twister, that teller woman Uncle Eddie, Kate? You want me to go on because the list is endless Richard.”

“Fellas! Fellas take it outside would ya!” Dean grimaced scowling uncomfortably. “All this bitching is making my ears bleed.”

“STAY OUT OF THIS!” the black suits hollered viciously; glowering at the hunter synchronously.

Dean watched as the color in suit and glasses’ face went beat red; snarling his lips as he shot back and forth with tattoo suit. Glancing at Sam; the older Winchester subtly motioned for his brother to make their move in countering their assailants while they were busy squabbling again. And man could they carry on; it was like looking at pair of overgrown toddlers.

“What about dad Richie?” tattoo suit fired again; aggravating suit and glasses to the point where he wasn’t even paying attention to Dean. “Was that my fucking fault too?” 

“You asshole!” suit and glasses barked fiery. “You know damn well if I hadn’t set the fire, that alcoholic sack of shit would’ve continued beating your stupid ass!”

“Sure keep telling yourself that Richard,” tattoo suit insensitively taunted; pursing his lips back at the steaming reptilian powerhouse standing next to Dean. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Fuck you!”

Now was their chance. On que the Winchesters dove for the men in black’s weapons; attempting to grab their arms and sweep kick their legs. Big Mistake. They were too slow. As it turned out the suits had already anticipated their maneuvers. That whole fight was a distraction and the hunters had foolishly underestimated them. 

“Nice try shit-brick.” Tattoo suit cockily nuanced at Sam retaliating from the hunter’s grasp; swinging the back end of the rifle into his skull just as suit and glasses had already done to Dean. WACK! And then everything went dark.

________________________________________

 

Seth and Richie Gecko towered over the two unconscious men they’d been holding at gunpoint; silently weighing their options. For the past hour or so they’d come into contact with a dead guy who tried to kill them and now two phony federal agents in flannel who’d been hot on their trail all morning. But these boys were also claiming to be after the same person…Cross and possibly Willet. Vital information like that could become useful later to the ex-criminal brothers in suits.

“Geek!” Richie snorted at the scruffy bravado lying dormant at his feet; tucking his gun away back underneath his suit jacket.

“Hey nice moves back there,” Seth grunted limping carefully towards his preternatural sibling; holding his ribs and still clutching his rifle under one arm. “I didn’t think I could bluff it as long as I did with the Olsen twins getting suspicious.”

When Seth got closer to Richie, he noticed the bullet wound in his back from earlier during the fight with the bravado. That taller one with the hair’s handy work. It was still bleeding; gently Seth touched it with his fingers causing the vampire to groan. 

“Jesus Richie, we gotta get that thing patched up.”

“AHH! Don’t worry about me brother I heal fast remember.” Richie smirked shaking off the pain flexing his neck and shoulders; then shifted his concern to the injured Seth holding his abdomen; blood from the reopened cut above his brow was just starting to dry. 

He was hurt pretty bad. And the images of Seth lying unconscious after Cross had brutally plunged him into that stack of wooden boxes infuriated Richie. The thought of losing Seth was like a knife to his chest. The vampire never felt so terrified as he did in that moment when he thought his mortal sibling was dead. How alone and hopeless he was in those few seconds before checking for a pulse.

“What about you?” Richie asked worriedly; eyes glistening. “Are…you alright?”

“I’m gonna need to ice bath for a month but I’ll live,” Seth affirmed scrunching his eyes to block out another impulse of agony. Then his tone became somewhat melancholy and empathetic. “Listen Richard…about what I said back there…”

“Save it,” the vampire shrugged his shoulders; internally making peace with Seth’s stinging words. But the sorrow within his somber rhinestone blue eyes told a different story. Even his usual sly smile wasn’t honest. “We don’t need to rehash it all over again. What’s done is done.”

“You know I didn’t mean those things right…what I said about dad, Kate and Uncle Eddie… You know it was just part of the rues.”

“That’s not entirely true but…I get it,” the culebra nodded, gently kneading his mortal sibling’s shoulder. After disputing with Seth all day and nearly losing him, their recent grudges with each other felt so pointless now. It was a waste of their time and the time they had together. Richie didn’t want to fight with Seth anymore; at least not for the rest of the night. It was hard enough struggling to get over the initial shock of watching his brother lying on that floor almost lifeless. The vampire wanted to rip Cross’s head off so badly for causing him to feel such agony. “We’re good brother.”

Seth nodded pursing his lips; unsure if he wanted to accept that response. Something was nagging at him as he studied his preternatural sibling’s abnormal wan exterior. He got the sneaking suspicion that Richie wasn’t being entirely truthful with him. And Seth’s mind had been racing with questions as to what went on during his brother’s showdown with Cross while he’d been tasting cement.

“Richard you sure you’re okay?” Seth queried; lifting an eyebrow at his brother. “I mean cause…you seem a little I don’t know…off.” 

Richie’s haunted blue irises began to laminate as Cross’s stunning revelations about the Gecko brothers overwhelmed his mind; rewinding like one of his Uncle’s old video cassettes. Immediately the vampire was transported back to his confrontation with the sketchy corpse. That creature’s words; those threats on Seth’s life and Kate…they were full of malice. And that prophecy; how could Richie even think of telling his brother any of this now? One by one Cross’s words circulated on repeat like implanted buzzards:

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you who you and your brother really are…the ancient prophecy? The divinities both of you possess?”

“Willet has plans for you and your brother”

“That darkness brewing inside you Richard...telling you where you truly belong… In Xibalba’s kingdom.”

“You can’t stop the storm coming kiddo”

No he couldn’t tell Seth. Not now…maybe not ever. Even if this lie blew up in his face down the road; and his brother hated him for it…Richie was willing to take that risk. Seth’s life and safety mattered more to him than some stupid legend in an ancient book. The culebra would save Kate and protect his mortal sibling from Willet…from their fate with everything he had. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to let Cross anywhere near Seth; not ever again. Closing his eyes briefly Richie solidified his promise; opening them up he embodied the lie in the form of a lopsided grin.

“Yah, I’m fine.” It was as cold of a response as the concrete they were standing on. 

“You sure?” Seth inquired longingly; searching the culebra’s face. “There isn’t something you wanna tell me is there?”

The vampire shook his head in hopes of throwing his mortal sibling off the scent of bullshit. “No, it’s all good brother.” He poker-faced.

“What happened with Cross anyway Richie?”

What the hell was wrong with him? Lying to Seth like this was devastating. If his brother ever found out he’d kill him. The Geckos already had enough secrets between them to last a lifetime. Ray Gecko’s death being the biggest secret of all. Their issues were already mountain-sized. But now another wedge had managed to assemble between Richie and Seth. Still the culebra made his choice in keeping his brother in the dark for his own good.

“Trust me Seth,” Richie quirked slapping Seth’s shoulder; raising his brows. “You didn’t miss out on anything.”

Seth pressed his lips together skeptically then the Geckos shifted their attention back to the unconscious men in cargo jackets.

“So what do you wanna do about the Hardy Boys?” Richie pondered out loud; tilting his head.

“We’ll take em’ back to the motel; finish the Q&A there when they regain consciousness,” Seth acquired squinting his brown eyes; rehearsing the plan in his mind. “Find out who they are and what they know about Cross.” He scratched at his face stubble where blood had dried; circling his arm around his ribs. “And I seriously need to sleep this shit off; this mortal body can only take so many hits in a day.”

Richie’s eyes were searching; thoroughly curious but also reluctant. 

“So…basically you want to kidnap them.” The culebra scrutinized his sibling. “I thought we didn’t do that shit anymore.”

“Semantics Richard,” the older Gecko brother reminded him; leaning against his preternatural sibling’s arm for support. “Besides these two know more than they’re letting on; I can smell it. They’re connected to all this somehow and we gotta find out why.”

Richie then crouched over the short-haired man patting him down for something specific; digging through his pockets. Pulling out a set of car keys he looked up at Seth sporting a clever grin; playfully swinging them on his index finger. “Jackpot brother.”

“Nice.” The older Gecko brother bemused airily at the vampire’s find. “Alright you take Shaggy I’ve got Scooby; got some stuff to tie em’ up in the back of the trunk. But you’re gonna have to carry them out to the cars yourself. I’m in no condition to lend a hand at the moment.”

Richie silently shook his head with a protest lingering on the edge of his tongue; watching Seth limp away in the direction of where they’d first entered the building. But stopped himself; remembering the injuries his mortal brother sustained. He wasn’t exactly in the best shape to haul around deadweight. And being a culebra Richie was much stronger and faster to get the task done at half the effort. 

One thing remained certain; it was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter was a little angsty and Geckos heavy but I needed to highlight some major plot points that are going to matter down the road as well as tease a bit about what went down with the Geckos and the Fullers after Amaru and before their abduction. Finally the hero twins legend is coming into play! 
> 
> Stay tuned for more hilarious dialogue between the Winchesters and the Geckos; and maybe some surprise characters ^_^


	5. Chapter 4

Baker Residence. Saturday, 10:35 pm.

Lenny Baker sat sprawled out across his bed; head comfortably cushioned on his pillow punching digits into his cell. In the background he could hear the soft notes of an acoustic guitar from an alternative rock band playing through the speakers of his MP3 player. His eyes occasionally wandered towards the Game of Thrones and Dead Rising posters plastered on the tan walls of his bedroom. Probably should’ve taken that thing down, Lenny thought zeroing in on the hair-raising portrait of Frank West swarmed by a sea of zombies while holding a television above his head. After what he’d witnessed last night at the mortuary he didn’t want any reminders.

As the line to the receiving end rang in his ear, Lenny popped his head over the bed taking in the chaotic scenery of his room; dirty laundry lying about on the hardwood floor near his computer littered with a stack of video game covers, a basketball situated next to his brown school bag with the text books poking out. His closet and dresser drawers were open halfway like he’d been too lazy to properly shut them. An open bag of chips which he’d snuck up from the kitchen earlier propped up against the alarm clock on his plastic neon-green nightstand. And Lenny’s red hoodie slung on the handle of the door. A total disaster. His parents had already grilled him for not cleaning up a week ago.

“Hello?” hummed the warm female voice on the other end.

“Yah hi, Mrs. Sanchez? It’s Lenny,” the awkward teenager answered swiftly; perking up in a sitting position crossing his legs. “Sorry to bother you, I know it’s late but…I was just wondering if you’ve heard from Jake.” 

“Oh no sweetie, he hasn’t come home yet.”

That was weird. Lenny’s face dimmed with concern; scratching at his dishelved sandy blond hair. “Well I’ve been texting him all day,” the teenager added rubbing his nose. “We were supposed to play a round of World of Warcraft online three hours ago and he hasn’t turned up. Just wondering if you knew where he was?”

“No I’m sorry; wish I knew where that boy runs off to sometimes,” she let out a slight chuckle; which had a somewhat calming effect on Lenny. “You know how Jake is. He’s probably out riding his bike somewhere and lost track of time.”

“Yah maybe,” the teenager fumbled nervously on the bed; glancing at the alarm clock on the nightstand. Suddenly his mind overflowed with images of that dead naked guy smashing through the glass doors of the mortuary; sending shivers down his spine. Then he turned to the side, dangling his legs over the edge facing his computer desk. “Well if you hear from him soon could you tell him I called?”

“Of course Lenny,” the woman on the other end affirmed softly. “I’ll have him give you a call tomorrow when he gets in.”  
“Thank you Mrs. Sanchez, goodnight.” Hanging up, the gawky teenager tossed his cell on the quilt; running his hands up his face, raking his fingers through his hair. Where the hell was that kid?

Lenny had been wondering where Jake Sanchez had disappeared off to most of the morning ever since witnessing that horror show last night. It wasn’t like him not to call or text especially on their frequently scheduled gaming nights. And they even had plans for the Dia de los Muertos festival tomorrow which until recently Lenny had considered backing out on. He’d been fidgety all day; desperate for someone to believe what he’d witnessed. His parents didn’t believe him and neither did his older brother Dan. Sure enough those odd Feds Lenny had spoken with earlier seemed bizarrely convinced of his statement. Ugh his mind just didn’t want to go back there.

BIZZZ! The teenager’s cell vibrated on the bed. When he picked it up there was a single text message on the screen reading:

Dad and I are off to bed. Garbage out?

It was from his mother. She didn’t like shouting at the top of her lungs when her son was occupied upstairs in his room. And she’d been getting quite addicted to texting out Lenny’s chores whenever he’d forgotten to do them. Damn it! He knew he’d forgotten something. Why the hell couldn’t Dan have been home to deal with it instead of out with his college buddies? Lenny didn’t really feel like venturing in the dark, even if it was just outside his house in his own neighborhood; not with that thing running around.

Still if that chore didn’t get done, he’d never hear the end of it. Sighing loudly Lenny rolled off the bed, shoving his cell into his pocket; dragging his feet along the messy floor to grab his red hoodie off the door handle as he exited the space. Walking down the steps lazily he searched the desolated area with no signs of his parents; obviously they’d retired for the night. The television was shut off in the family room and in the kitchen stood and aluminum garbage pail next to the marble island. Slipping on his hoodie, Lenny casually strolled into the kitchen and grabbed the full garbage bag out of the pail; tying it up and dragging it out the front door of the house.

It was quiet and hot outside. Perhaps too hot to be wearing a hoodie but Lenny felt naked without it. The sun nearly faded from view; painting the billows in the sky into lavish red, orange and purple to midnight blue. Normally this kind of scenery was breathtaking for the teenager but on this night, knowing what was lurking out there made it all the more eerie. Swallowing back his nerves, scoping out the empty streets with vacant cars parked in front of other suburban homes; Lenny jotted down the steps, turning to the right and headed further up the driveway towards the garbage bins sitting next to the brown shed. 

Just put the trash in that bin and leave, he told himself quietly, no need to stay out here longer than you have to. 

Hurrying with a quick pace the awkward teenager was almost jogging up the ramp towards the three color-coded bins black, dark blue, and light blue labelling: 

Garbage. Paper. Plastics. 

The black bin was the one he wanted. But as he drew closer SNAP! A twig not far from where he stood broke like someone or something had trampled on a bush. Lenny’s whole body jolted; pausing on the pavement. His heart started racing and for a second his limbs became immobile from uneasiness. In the distance he could hear cars driving along the Albuquerque roads. And one of the neighbor’s dogs began barking; not frantic but it was enough to assure the teenage boy there wasn’t any danger. WHEW! He never thought he felt so glad to hear those dogs; it gave him little comfort as he shrugged off the tension. 

Tossing the trash into the black bin, Lenny then pulled out his cell to throw Jake another quick text; clicking at the keys as he started back down the driveway:

Hey tried calling. Where R U?

Just as he hit send, Lenny heard rustling in the shrubs of the backyard behind his house and paused; turning towards the noises. Nothing there but blackness as the shadows had swallowed up the lawn. The only thing he could see was a creepy blue and white beach ball sitting on the grass. Weird; what is that thing doing there? He wondered shoving his cell back in his jacket; marching over to lawn of the backyard to pick it up and put it away. Maybe Dan and his buddies were messing around in the shed earlier and forgot about it. As he stepped out onto the grass, the shuffling feet noises Lenny had been hearing before sounded closer. 

The teenager halted in his tracks and slowly glanced over his shoulder; praying in his mind not to see something. The fates were smiling down at him as once again total emptiness. Ugh Lenny get a grip on yourself would ya, he scolded himself turning back to grab the beach ball off the ground. It was hard to focus when all he could see was that dead looking guy with the stitched up chest smashing through the glass of that building in his head on repeat. The last thing he wanted was to screw around any longer in the darkness; get back inside the house where he felt safe. 

Bending down to pick up the ball, the tall shrubs a few paces from him started rustling. Lenny gulped taking a deep breath; slowly straightening himself up. Maybe he should just forget about the stupid ball and hurry back in case Freddy Kruger from the morgue showed up. As he zeroed in on the bushes Lenny noticed them moving; which startled him. He could feel tremors eradicating throughout his frail body; gulping. The noises were suspicious yet somehow the teenager felt provoked to investigate. Dumb kid, he thought, you know curiosity killed the cat.

The closer he got the louder the clamours and rummaging became. But Lenny froze when he witnessed the bushes had stopped shaking. Heart in his throat he attempted to take a peek; brushing his fingers along the narrow branches. Suddenly MEOW! Lenny jumped ten feet backwards out of his skin; hollering with terror as a neighbors’ orange and black cat sprung out from the bushes. He felt ridiculous once he’d calmed down recognizing the illicit feline. Oh boy if Dan or Jake could’ve seen him at that moment; he’d never hear the end of it. The fraidy-cat jokes wouldn’t cease. 

“Jasper!” the teenager bellowed; struggling to regain his nerves. “You scared the hell out of me you shit!” He felt so stupid and embarrassed that he kicked at the grass; scaring off the little rascal. “Go home!”

Lenny’s mood had shifted from fretful to just plain annoyed; shaking his head puffing out his cheeks. Stupid cat, he could hear himself grumble under his breath. He took out his phone again this time pressing the speed dial to Jake; placing it against his ear and waited. He knew it probably would’ve been best to just heed Mrs. Sanchez’s words and talk to his friend in the morning but at this point Lenny was getting a little worried. Texting that kid all day was useless, why the hell wasn’t he answering? 

 

BIZZZ…BIZZZ…BIZZZ… 

 

All of a sudden Lenny could hear continuous muffled vibrations in the shrubbery background behind him; like a cell going off in someone’s pocket. His whole body went frozen dropping the phone on the grass; blood turning ice cold. That was impossible. Jake couldn’t be here he would’ve seen him. Slowly but surely Lenny spun towards the indistinct vibrating cell noises; overcome with anxiety when he noticed a medium sized shadowy silhouette standing before him. The figure took him by surprise that he swallowed hard contemplating his choice of words; if he could just find his voice.

“J-Jake?” he stammered at the silhouette, racking his fingers through his hair. “Jake…is that you dude?” 

Lenny watched as the figure staggered towards him; out of the shadows which melted away from its hooded frame. The teenager recognized the street clothes; blue jeans, sneakers caked with mud, and a grey World of Warcraft hoodie pulled down over his head. It was Jake. However once Lenny’s eyes drifted to his shirt he immediately noticed the gaping wounds in his stomach; deep gouges with blood and bits of his internal organs still glopping down the left side of his pant leg. And he was giving off a raunchy odor that made Lenny’s nose twitched contentiously. Even Jake’s hands looked like they’d been chewed up by some kind of wild animal; bleeding though Jake seemed to have no reaction. He looked like an emergency victim.

Distraught Lenny quickly approached his friend; voice quivering with anxious concern. 

“Jake what the hell!” he exclaimed; grabbing the boy’s shoulders. “What did this to you?!”

“URGHHH…” the boy grunted; like something wet and scratchy was lodged in his throat preventing him from speaking properly. As the hood lifted, Lenny found himself staring back into the ravenous milky glare of what used to be his friend. The color drained from gawky teenager’s face; slack-jawed taking in the carnage around his mouth and skin which had become a bluish tincture; spider veins going across his neck and forehead. Flesh and muscle had been stripped off one side of Jake’s face revealing a red skeletal smirk; like something had been gnawing at his mouth. 

Lenny shuddered gasping as he pulled away from Jake; backtracking his steps. Yet as he did this the thing slowly lumbered toward him, growling hungrily and snapping its jaws; arms stretching out to grab him. The teenager could feel his limbs stiffening from shock; eyes glazed as he stared at Jake’s hideously disfigured complexion. This can’t be happening, he thought, this can’t be fucking happening. 

“J-Jake what are you doing!” Lenny screamed at the other boy; mind and heart racing. “You’re s-scaring the shit out of me!”

THUD! The teenager found himself backpedalling straight into a wall. Only it wasn’t a wall as he spun around. He hoped for a second it was Dan or maybe even his parents. But it wasn’t; that same fouling odor he’d smelt from Jake was attached to whatever he’d just collided into. The first thing Lenny’s bulging eyes locked onto were letters of a name tag stitched on the left side of a dark blue uniform: 

CHARLIE.

The teenager immediately took notice of the shredded garments mixed with bits of flesh hanging off his lacerations; a gaping hole in his abdomen as though something had torn out all his insides. Lifting his gaze Lenny was overcome with horror of what appeared to be the tubby mutilated corpse of a security guard. He looked as though he’d been mauled by a bear or a lion. And just like Jake, the man’s skin was a dead bluish tint with spider veins peeking beneath his neck and forehead; hollow moonlit irises glared back at the boy. 

Lenny shrieked panic-stricken flailing his arms; jumping backwards closer to the thing that used to be Jake. But as he tried duck under the security guard’s grasp and make a dash for the back doors of the house, more severely injured people with similar eyes and mutilated features shuffled quickly towards the teenager in every direction; shrieking, groaning and snapping their bloody teeth at him. Lenny was helplessly swarmed; just like the man on his Dead Rising poster.

One by one the creatures piled around him; biting chunks out of his throat and arms. The teenager wailed in frightful agony collapsing to the ground as hundreds of vicious hands tore through his clothes; ripping into his stomach and pulling out strands of entrails which they hungrily consumed. Lenny’s intense screaming eventually muffled into pools of bloody vomit spewing from his mouth like a busted tap nozzle. The last thing the dying boy saw before his eyes rolled back into his skull was the image of his friend towering over the pack; chewing away at his intestines.  
________________________________________  
Sunset Motel. Sunday, 1:33 am

Two black American muscle cars drove into the motel lot one in front of the other; parking in spaces side by side. It was a long beige brick facility, all one level which was just convenient for someone not in the condition to use the stairs. A wounded Seth Gecko carefully climbed out of the cab of the cougar; while his brother Richie, who’d been powering the impala, mirrored his actions. Both had each been chauffeuring a restrained, unconscious male passenger in the backseat. Searching the area there didn’t seem to be anyone stirring; not even the manager which was strange. It was a pretty quiet night for an unplanned kidnapping. Giving each other a silent nod to move the cargo into their room; the Geckos turned to their vehicles and simultaneously helped out a man from the back. 

Good thing Richie didn’t tie their legs together yet because that would’ve been a pain in the ass with Seth’s ribs sore as they were. Their arms were however tied behind their backs so the older Gecko brother would have to support that dead weight regardless. But the two unconscious men were slowly starting to come to; making it easier for Seth to walk his hostage all the way to the door of their motel room. Circling his arms around the shorter bravado’s waist; Seth began to stagger ahead with the room keys in hand. Richie was right behind him carrying the shaggy giant; pushing his glasses up between the eyes when he noticed them slipping.

From out of nowhere a husband and wife tenant who looked like they were turning in for the night acknowledged the Gecko brothers carrying the two passed out men; their faces appalled. Oh just fucking great, Seth bellowed in his mind rolling his eyes, they did not need witnesses not now. Quickly he conjured up an excuse to make the scenario seem less suspicious.

“Um…our cousins had a little too much to drink,” Seth beamed uncomfortably at the couple gawking at him and Richie; patting the bravado’s back with his free hand. He didn’t even think about the revealing injuries like the cut above his eye, the dirt smudged on his face or the limp in his walk from that run in with Cross earlier. It was just best to go with the designated driver fib; besides he was a master at bullshitting people. “Just trying to get em’ inside to sleep it off.”

“Yah they can’t hold their liquor,” Richie spontaneously threw in stalely; pressing his lips tightly together as he lifted the sleeping giant’s head up by the hair then released it so it lolled to one side. “Must be the Irish blood.” 

The couple’s eyebrows puckered but luckily they shrugged vacantly and strolled off in the opposite direction. Good that was one less thing to deal with for the night; unless they still decided on running to the cops later. But Seth and Richie couldn’t think about that; they were preoccupied enough as it was with the Fuller kidnapping, Cross and now these two lug-heads in their arms. Quickly before anymore interruptions the Geckos made their way into room 104; unlocking it, stepping inside and shutting it quickly. 

Exhaling Seth took in the ridiculous scenery of their room; unaware of it before until now. Bright orange walls with a strip of cartoon cactus wallpaper going across the middle; desert comforters with lizards printed all over sprawled on the beds with a bull’s skull hanging on the wall above. The floor was a cheap but soft brown 70s inspired platform and the curtains matched. A small television was parked in front of the beds and there was an extra sleeping quarter on the other side of a dividing wall where the bathroom was. Each bed had a night stand with a lamp and a cheesy pamphlet displaying a smiling sun wearing sunglasses on the cover. And they also had a table with two chairs sitting next to the main window by the front door.

This place was a shit hole compared to their clean and organized compound back in San Antonio. Seth and Richie would’ve never picked this dump as their first choice for a vacation or even a rescue but it was the least conspicuous while they dove under the radar of the authorities.

Setting the unconscious men down on one of the beds, Seth went and got two chairs from the table; situating them in the middle of the room then he and Richie finished tying up the shaggy giant and his short-haired bravado accomplice; removing their phones and wallets for a thorough search. Satisfied with the temporary restraints of their hostages; Richie ran out to grab the first aid kit from the cougar then he and Seth proceeded to tend each other’s wounds while they waited for the Hardy boys to wake up. Seth was first; stripping off his suit jacket and shirt, tossing them on the table so his preternatural brother could wrap the bandages around his bruised ribs.

“Do they feel broken?” the culebra asked worriedly; glancing up at his mortal sibling with mirthful blue eyes; gently pressing two fingers against the big swollen, purplish spot. 

“AHHH watch it!” Seth yelped reacting to the excruciating serge of pain that jolted his whole body. “Son of a bitch!” Groaning as he responded. “Yah I’d say so.”

Richie shook his head glaring wryly at his brother; focused on the white gauze he began circulating around Seth’s torso. “Told ya wearing that shit was gonna get you in trouble brother.”  
Seth was too preoccupied on the pain to worry about firing at his preternatural sibling with a witty response. “Ahh! Just shut up and bandage it already.”

“I’m serious.” Richie’s jaw clenched; voice becoming sullen gazing downward. “You could’ve been killed back there. Again.” 

“Well…whose bright idea was it to go the House of Horrors in the first place Richard?” Seth snapped back; scrunching up his face every time the vampire grazed a really tender area on his ribs. 

“Yours.”

The older Gecko brother’s expression immediately dulled. Just as he thought he’d outsmarted his egg-head of a brother; Richie somehow managed to get one up on him. Damn it. 

“Okay who was the one that got the vision of Colfax Abbey then?”

Richie’s head lifted knitting his eyebrows; giving his brother a cynical smirk. “Nice try brother. But no dice this one’s on you.” Purposely yanking the bandage, tightening the fold which made Seth yowl. “Besides it was a lead on Kate and Scott. We couldn’t just ignore it.”

“Yah lot of good it did us,” Seth snorted irritably under his breath; holding his arms out in a winged stance so as not to disrupt the vampire working on him. “Now we got some fucking decaying maniac on our asses.” Then he ushered Richie’s attention over at the sleeping duo back to back tied to chairs in front of them. “Along with Dawson’s Creek over there. Jesus, it’s like looking at PC PG-13 duplicates.” 

Richie scrutinized the pair; sourly lifting his brow. “Except we don’t dress like douche bags.” he affirmed stoically tilting his head; twisting his mouth. “You really think the lumberjack twins know something about Cross?” 

“They said they were hunting him; why else were they poking their noses around that warehouse if it wasn’t about us?”

“What if they don’t talk?” Richie inquired vaguely turning back to his human sibling. “What if bringing them here was a stupid waste of time Seth?”

“AHH!” the older Gecko brother yelped as the culebra pulled on the bandage; then evened his tone. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it Richie. Are you done with that shit yet?”

“Yep,” the vampire answered swiftly; dropping his hands from Seth’s ribs. Putting what was left of the roll of gauze back in the kit; climbing to his feet. “But you’re gonna need to ice that down. I’m not a fucking doctor ya know; I can only do so much without a hospital at my disposal.”

Seth let out a loud bellow rolling his eyes with oncoming sarcasm; throwing over his shirt and buttoning it up. “Oh I’m sorry my mortality causes you so much grief Richard. By all means don’t be so subtle about it.”

Richie silently glared at his brother with unamused taut eyes; a snark rolling around in his mouth. He wanted to gibe at Seth with a harsh response but hesitated realizing what he swore to himself earlier; that he’d let it go for the rest of the night. Seth had been through enough and he wasn’t in the mood to verbally wrestle with him.

So instead he deadpanned. “You wanna take this bullet out of my back now or is your scheduled bitching session overbooked at the moment?” 

“Shut up and turn around.” The older Gecko brother precociously scoffed at his preternatural sibling; who surprisingly did as he’d been told. Getting out the pliers and tin bowl as Richie removed his suit jacket and shirt. “I thought snakes were supposed to be these supersonic regenerators. A single bullet should be nothing to you guys. What happened, losing your edge or something Rambo?”

“Bite me!” Richie shot back dryly; tossing his shirt and jacket aside. Then it hit him; obviously he wasn’t healing fast enough due to malnourishment. Ever since the Fullers had been abducted, the vampire couldn’t bring himself to eat or sleep. And the only reason he even fed on Cross was to stop him from hurting Seth. He was just full of so much anguish and guilt that it was literally taking its toll; something he didn’t care to share with his brother. For a second Richie closed his eyes basking in the sorrow then somberly admitted. “Not that it’s any of your business but…I haven’t really been feeding okay. Not since Cross.”

Seth’s face fell the instant Richie’s confession spurned him; nearly dropping the surgical tool in his hand. What the hell is wrong with this kid, he thought, why doesn’t he ever tell me this shit? It ailed the older Gecko brother to hear his own sibling had been neglecting to take care of himself; he felt sick to his stomach as his eyes glistened with empathy. But he chose to hide it with snide and attitude.

“Really Richard? Starving yourself now?” it made Seth so furious; he just wanted to slap some sense into Richie. “Jesus what the hell?”

“Would you get off my back!” the vampire barked, gnashing his teeth; trying to make the situation sound less serious than it was. “It’s not that big a deal; souls just help culebras heal faster. The more we consume the better we can regenerate.

“You mean the blood.” Seth pressed; brown eyes fixated on the culebra who nodded, “It helps you guys heal quicker.” Then he let out an irritable sigh; scratching his head. “Should’ve known; you mentioned it a while back. What the fuck Richard?” 

“Just drop it alright! I don’t want to talk about it.”

A light bulb went off in the older Gecko brother’s mind as he began to roll up the sleeve of his shirt. He didn’t care for the idea but having donated his preternatural brother blood in the past to help nurse him back to health, he’d become accustomed. 

Five months ago after the Geckos and Scott had slain Amaru, Richie used himself to close Xibalba’s portal in order to save Kate, Seth and the world. And while there he was forced to live unimaginable horrors fighting for his life in an underworld colosseum; eventually turning into a catatonic shell of what he once was. All of Richie’s memories, his sanity and his humanity were completely diminished by the time Seth and ranger Gonzalez got to him. Time passed differently in Xibalba compared to earth; for Seth and the others it was a month but for Richie it was over a year. A year in hell of torture, fear and fighting for survival. 

Pressing his palm against his head, Seth relived the entire nightmare over and over again; the sickening, horrifying things he’d witnessed, the fouling stench of death and blood. But none of that terrified him more compared to the unstable condition his brother was in; a drooling feral monster that needed to be retrained with chains. Luckily Seth had refused Gonzalez’s protests to leave him; fearing that Richie was just too far gone to be saved at all. No, he wouldn’t give up on him; not then and not now. 

“Here,” Seth offered out his right arm with the bite scar Richie had left months previously. “I’m not gonna have you pass out on me; you need to eat something.”

“No!” The culebra’s eyes were vexed; quickly slapping his mortal sibling’s arm away. “Get that shit away from me!” he rebutted. “I told you I’m fine.”

Seth grimaced biting his lower lip; unable to let the subject rest. The older Gecko brother wasn’t about to let his preternatural sibling off the hook that easily; not about this. It was true Seth couldn’t stand Richie’s snake dietary for blood but he’d rather have him healthy than borderline self-destructing. He could get himself killed at this rate; put both their lives at risk. And the Fullers needed them in top shape not falling apart. What was wrong with him?

That’s when a name popped in Seth’s mind.

“Does this have anything to do with Kate?” he eyed the vampire suspiciously; softening his voice. “Are you punishing yourself for what happened?”

The culebra let out a loud huff immediately shutting his eyes; squeezing them tightly to prevent spontaneous tears. That name stung. It hurt worse hearing Seth saying Kate’s name out loud then it did thinking about her; which was just as excruciating. Flashes of the last time Richie screwed up with her back at the carnival flooded his mind; jabbing into his brain like a thousand needles. Just as he thought the pain would subside, his brother unintentionally began to twist the knife deeper.

“Buddy…you know that wasn’t your fault right?” Seth encouraged; kneading the vampire’s shoulder. But the attempt at comfort only left Richie bitterer inside. “You couldn’t have foreseen these assholes or what they’d do to the Fullers. So stop beating yourself up over this.”

“I said I don’t want to fucking talk about it Seth!” Richie had reached a boiling point in ire; running his hands down his face. 

The older Gecko brother knew when not to poke the bear any more than he should; proceeding to remove the bullet from his brother’s back. Meanwhile Richie preoccupied himself going through the wallets, fake IDs and cellphones they’d swiped from bravado and the shaggy giant. Intriguing that these guys had no real identification on them since all the names they used on their IDs were obvious classic rock references; even some of the cells they carried were burners. So they were definitely flying under the radar from someone. These were techniques the Geckos knew very well; they’d used them in the past being criminals themselves. 

Bravado and the shaggy giant also drove around in a 67’ Chevy. Richie had to admit that impala was a pretty stylish girl; sleek with an engine that purred like a kitten. And he could tell these guys took great care of the car as if it were a member of their family. Everything was in mint condition from the tape deck down to the seat leather; its smell was also inviting even with the hint of stale sandwiches and potato chips. The trunk was locked which probably held all their gear inside considering they claimed to be hunters whatever the hell that meant. Just who are these guys, Richie pondered; silently absorbing the information gathered. 

Thinking back on it Richie picked up the names these two called one another while being held at gunpoint; the taller guy with the hair was Sam and the shorter bravado was Dean. Whether those were their actual names was yet to be known. Another name he’d read from one of their phones next to Sam’s name which wasn’t another music reference came up; Winchester. That must’ve been their surname; if they even had one. The vampire recalled shaggy giant mentioning he and bravado were brothers as well. That’s something we have in common, he smirked to himself closing up one of the wallets; that and a taste for classic American muscle. 

“AHH fuck!” Richie howled at the white hot pain pinching him unexpectedly; feeling the pliers digging around the hole in his flesh. “Watch it with those damn things!”

“Got it!” Seth pipped coolly; yanking out the bullet embedded in the vampire’s skin and dropping it in the tin bowl. Lightly dabbing at the wound with a sterol pad; amazingly it was starting to heal better. “Damn it that son of a bitch was a good shot; it was close to your heart. You’re lucky it wasn’t a stake bullet otherwise your ass would’ve been ashes.”

“So you’re praising the jabberwocky now?” Richie scolded turning to his brother with enlarged eyes; dressing himself back in his shirt and adjusting the lapels of his suit jacket. “Don’t forget these ass-wipes just tried to kill me and they let Cross get away. Why did we even bring them back with us; I could’ve just swapped blood with them you know.”

“Because like I already told you Richard, they could be useful to us down the road,” Seth argued stalely; gesturing his hand in front of the culebra. “We’re up to our necks in freaks and bodies here I wanna know who the hell my enemy is. If these two dickheads can explain what the fuck is going on; why Cross is even still walking around without a pulse when he’s supposed to be maggot lunch I want the answers. Comprende?” 

The culebra sighed apathetically crossing his arms; reluctant to agree. “Whatever.” He didn’t need answers for Cross’s reanimation; Willet was the culprit behind that sick revelation.

Just then bravado and the shaggy giant began to stir in their chairs; groaning and sluggishly moving their heads up. Seth and Richie leaned against the table a few feet across from them; casually observing with little amusement. Regaining full consciousness, bravado began to grunt pulling at the ropes his wrists and ankles were tied down to on his seat. Shaggy giant’s long hair swished in every direction as he thrashed about behind his brother. 

“Sam?” bravado coughed worriedly; struggling to move his arms. “Sammy?!”

“I’m here Dean.” Shaggy giant replied behind him. “Where the hell are we?”

Bravado’s eyes began hazily searching the unflattering room. “Well from the looks of the crappy digs I’d say back at the motel; place still makes me wanna blow chunks.”  
Realizing they were no longer at the warehouse, held captive in a different room of the motel absorbing their surroundings; the duo paused lifting their twin incensed gazes back at the Geckos.

“Morning sunshine?” Seth coolly assessed the two men restrained in their seats; holding his glock 19 in one hand. “Did ya sleep well?”

Bravado’s brow shifted into a bitter straight line; puffing out his cheeks. His larger accomplice’s expression was on the verge of panic as his breaths quickened. 

“Damn it!” the bravado’s gruff voice rumbled; rolling his frustrated green eyes. Obviously the Geckos’ mugs were the last faces he was hoping to see. “Sammy we’ve been hijacked by the Lost Boys.”

“What do you want with us?” the shaggy giant coughed at the Geckos; face bleak.

“And please don’t say it’s for a photo-op.”

“Oh no we got the Power of Vito here Twin Peaks; so we’re the ones calling the shots,” Seth quipped with a lopsided grin; motioning with his gun. He scooted off the table; pacing towards the men. “Now, clearly we all got off on the wrong foot the last time we tried to have this conversation.”

“You mean like when you and raptor boy over there were busy pointing guns at my brother and I?” the bravado sneered sardonically; lip curling in a silent growl which reminded Seth of a younger Rocky Balboa. “Yah, really feeling the circle of friendship in this room.”

“Well we weren’t the assholes who busted in that place and let the bad guy get away; dipshit.” Richie snarled at the bravado derisively; with dagger-like blue eyes.

The bravado blinked at the culebra perplexingly like he’d heard the most ridiculous statement in his life; “Excuse me? Ah let the bad guy get away?” he jeered. “I’m friggin looking right at em’ asshat.”

Seth could feel a heated outburst on the verge of escalating and immediately assumed the middle-man position; stepping between his brother in attack-dog mode and their high strung hostages holding his hands up. The Geckos didn’t need two more bodies to add on their plate; not when the shit had already hit the fan.

“Alright! Alright enough pissing you two,” Seth sputtered exchanging impassive expressions between bravado and the vampire. “I want everyone to be cool here while we have a civil discussion.” And he glared back at his brother; hardening his suave voice. “That includes you Richard; back the fuck off now.”

Richie fired a peeved look at his brother; jaw-line twitching as he pointed over at bravado like a kid tattling. “He started it.”

“I don’t give a shit!” Seth clipped; dark eyes staring down the culebra as he forcefully pushed him back with his hand. “This ain’t Benny’s gas pump. We’re not having a repeat of last year’s cross-country tour of murder and mayhem; we’re talking. So sit down and shut the fuck up.” 

Richie was bilious as he scrutinized his brother; sitting back against the table pouting with his arms crossed. Bravado seemed to be curiously inspecting the situation between the Geckos. Shaggy giant on the other hand planned on remaining diplomatic despite his frustrated uneasy expression. 

“Wait!” bravado exclaimed panic-stricken; eyes anxiously scanning the room like he’d just forgotten something vital. Seth and Richie turned their heads synchronously. “Sammy we drove to that warehouse. If we’re here now then where the hell”-

A jingling noise disrupted the bravado’s train of thought; provoking him to gawk heatedly at the younger Gecko brother. Richie’s hand had shot up with a vacant taunting expression; exposing the keys to the captive short-haired man’s impala, spinning them around the ring on his finger.

“Looking for these Steve McQueen?” 

Bravado gritted his teeth under his breath; green eyes blazing. “Son of a bitch! “You did not just friggin Gone in 60 Seconds my baby!” then he bitterly perused at Seth. “You let that freak touch my car?!”

Seth shrugged apathetically. “Well it was either that or scrap-metal. So I’m banking you’d want the latter end of the deal.”

The vampire snickered pleased with himself, tossing the keys on the table; delighting over the bravado’s distress. Then he pulled out his Taurus from under the back of his suit jacket.

“I gotta say that impala of yours is a pretty sleek girl,” Richie boasted cheekily; using one of his hands to keep his balance leaning against the edge of the table. “Bet she’s worth a handsome penny too; judging from all the obvious hours of labor you put into that set of wheels.”

“Don’t you friggin dare asshat!” snarled the bravado; vein throbbing in his forehead. And he glanced at shaggy-giant; looking for sympathy. “Sammy these sons of bitches violated Baby; I’m pissed man.”

“Listen, whoever you are,” shaggy giant blurted at Seth and Richie; steadying his voice. “Whatever you’ve done; you don’t have to do this. We’re not a threat to you.”

“Really?” The vampire scoffed; immediately brushing passed his mortal sibling and invading shaggy-hair’s space pointing his gun. “Is that whatever the hell you called that back there at the warehouse when you shot me in the back; not threatening?!”

Shaggy giant glared dourly. “You attacked my brother!”

“Because he fucking body-checked me!” Richie argued with cold eyes; grinding his teeth as he clamped a hand on shaggy giant’s broad shoulder. “Oh and yah, he also tried to stab me asshole!”

“And I’d happily do it again dickhead.” Bravado boldly snarked over shaggy giant’s shoulder.

Nostrils flaring, the culebra could feel the urge to rip something apart pulsating throughout his body; charging towards the short-haired bravado with the saucy grin. He’d had enough of that guy. But the older Gecko brother again quickly hurried over to his preternatural sibling; caught his arm pulling him away from the chairs. Seth was lucky Richie didn’t try to resist him; that kind of super-strength was enough to stop a car. The vampire had some sense in him to know never to use his powers on his mortal brother; knowing full well he could kill him easily.

“Stop it Richard!” the older Gecko brother barked; stirring the culebra towards a spot on the bed to cool off. “Calm down; we don’t need this shit.” 

“Yah Richie,” prodded the bravado; smirking from his seat at the Gecko brothers. “Heed your master’s words like a good little dragon.”

“Dean that’s enough!” shaggy giant snapped at his accomplice. 

Seth wasn’t amused as he stalked toward the short haired man, clutching his stubble jaw with one hand; pressing the glock barrel against the guy’s temple.  
“One more crack out of that smart-mouth of yours bravado,” the older Gecko brother warned; staring at the man nonchalantly. “And I’m just gonna let him rip it off. No more bullshit; shut the fuck up or lose a kneecap.” 

“Ah dude again with the language.” The short-haired man quirked impudently. “Someone really needs to get you fellas a bar of soap.”

Seth promptly placed the front of his glock on the bravado’s knee; digging his other hand into the guy’s shoulder squeezing hard. Bravado flinched in pain giving the older Gecko brother pertly satisfaction.

“You’re quite the Joker aren’t you bravado?” Seth scantily simpered; grimacing at the captive man. “I wonder if I’m gonna get the same wise-ass remarks the moment I pull this trigger.”

“Stop it, you made your point!” shaggy giant protested; rigorously hardening his voice at the man behind him. “He’ll shut up; won’t you Dean.”

Bravado gave Seth a wry expression as he roughly released him; leaving the captive man to shake off the after effects. Then the older Gecko brother approached the table with the cargo jacket duo’s contents displayed on the surface; snatching up the fake IDs he and Richie had been looking at and switching his attention back to his retrained hostages.

“As I was saying; none of us really hit it off back at the warehouse,” Seth proclaimed; pacing side to side in front of the chairs and glancing at Richie. “So before there are any more interruptions; like trying to kill one another let’s just lay all this shit out on the table.” He coaxed at the captive brother duo matter-of-factly. “Just to make everyone more comfortable I’ll start us off. I’m Seth Gecko,” Seth pointed at the vampire on the bed. “That’s my brother Richie; and if you cooperate with us, we’ll all get out of this without any bumps or scrapes.”

“Sure you’re a regular Mother Theresa,” bravado gibed cynically; glaring at the older Gecko brother then glancing down at his restraints. “Giving the commendations.” 

“Oh that?” Seth deadpanned raising a brow; pointing his gun at the ropes tying down bravado and his shaggy accomplice. “Just a standard precaution; you know in case you and Chewbacca decide to quarterback my brother and I again.”

“Yah, well while you and the oversized iguana are busy Pulp-Fictioning; you’re not exactly boosting anyone’s confidence here.” 

“Hey Stallone,” Richie apathetically chided the bravado in the background, “You know we could’ve just shot you and Andre the Giant back at the warehouse; allow Cross to lick up whatever was left.”

“Oh my heart bleeds for you gator bitch.” Bravado shot back.

“Hold on, you said your name is Gecko?” shaggy giant inquired instantaneously; exchanging glances at both the brothers like he’d remembered seeing their faces before that night. “I knew I heard that name before.”

“So you’ve heard of us?” Richie interjected hollowly; forehead creasing.

“Sammy you know these ass clowns?” bravado jeered behind him; baffled. “Is this about what that Lenny kid told to us back at the diner?”

“Not just that I’ve seen their faces before Dean, on television.” Shaggy giant’s face became foreboding; breathing intensifying. “These two robbed that bank in Abilene over a year ago before they disappeared; killing several people including a woman they took hostage. They’re scumbag criminals.”

At this bravado downcast his eyes and began to chortle mirthlessly. 

“Wow you boys are really on a roll,” he snarked at the Geckos beneath his glaring eyes. “Murder, assault, kidnapping, grand theft; the whole nine yards. What is this, trying to live out your Butch and Sundance Kid fantasies?” 

Seth and Richie were still reeling over the guilt of their criminal escapades before the Twister ripped apart their sense of reality. Between the monsters, Richie’s transition into one of the undead, Kate and Uncle Eddie’s deaths, Seth’s heroin relapse, Amaru and Xibalba neither of them had been able to move past their sins. Every time Richie closed his eyes he saw Monica the teller woman lying on that bed back at the Dew Drop Inn with her eyes gouged out. Seth still saw all the people he and his brother had hurt or threatened including the Fullers flash forwarding in his mind. They knew they weren’t good people; not then and not now.

The difference however between the year before and the present time was that the Geckos were at the very least trying to keep their noses clean; stay out of trouble best they could. Even if there was no redemption for them, Seth and Richie wanted to do right by the Fullers who’d decided to remain with them inspite of how it all started; those two had become their responsibility and part of their crazy little family. 

Sure the Geckos could slay monsters and save the world once or twice along the way but it wouldn’t make them heroes; it wouldn’t erase all the bad deeds they’d committed. Seth and Richie’s hands were permanently dirty; no amount of scrubbing would get those stains clean.

Bravado and shaggy-giant had gotten it wrong though; the Geckos weren’t those same people back at Abilene. That version of them was gone forever; dead as the incinerated corpses’ ranger Gonzalez recovered from Richie’s car wreck when he faked their deaths. These two infomercial models had no damn idea who the Geckos were now. Rubbing the obvious tension from his forehead pacing back and forth, Seth turned to the captives.

“Okay for the record that movie was a classic by the way,” the older Gecko brother remarked idly with a condescending tone. “And second the shit that happened in Abilene wasn’t supposed to go down like that.”

“Then what were those people to you exactly?” shaggy giant chided seething; adam’s apple bobbing apathetically as he stared at Seth. “Collateral damage? What about that woman you took hostage; you know she had a family right?”

Shaggy Giant’s comment really irked the vampire.

“She wasn’t supposed to die!” Richie barked defensively; gesticulating with his Taurus in hand. “I had some crazy bitch in my head controlling me at the time. And I know damn well Monica had a family asshole; she told me herself!”

Bravado glared at the vampire slyly; drawing his brows together critically. “Oh so that makes it okay then.” The man with the short hair shook his head scowling at the Geckos. “Even if you had a sudden case of the Norman Bates I don’t give a crap; you two obviously weren’t flying one bird short out of the cuckoo’s nest when you abducted that woman.” 

The older Gecko brother immediately latched onto bravado’s last comment; wheels turning as he remembered all the shady information he and Richie had gathered on their hostages. If there was one thing he couldn’t stand it was a hypocrite. He could practically smell the stench of bullshit lingering off the two captive men before him. 

“And what about the skeletons dancing around in your self-righteous closet smartass,” Seth sneered; grabbing the short-haired man by the retrained wrist. “These scars on your arms, those aliases, the weapons you and your better half are carrying around. Something tells me you’re not without blood on your hands.” He aggressively released the bravado; rubbernecking him suspiciously. “I bet in your line of work there’ve been casualties…haven’t there? I’m an ex-con Bravado, I know a killer when I’m looking at one.”

The man with the short-hair swallowed hard; dropping his intense gaze as the smugness deflated from his face. Seth saw it in the man’s eyes; that shame. It only provoked his arrogance. Whoever these boys were spouting off their phony sense of morality; they’d previously walked a fine line of the grey area. Dirty hands just like ours, he mused silently to himself; exchanging observant gazes between bravado and the shaggy giant.

“Okay now that we’ve covered that shit, let’s have Bravado and the Shaggy Giant a shot at the mic for a while,” Seth queried, tossing the IDs in front of the seated captives. “I know for a fact that they’re all phonies. Only someone with a fetish for mullet-rock would be dumb enough to use these as aliases.” He clicked his gun under his thumb. “So the question is; who the hell are you two really?”

“Winchester.” Shaggy giant muttered; downcast as he steadied his heart rate. “Sam and Dean Winchester.” Though he couldn’t move his arms to gesture who was which; he jerked his head at the man tied up behind him. “That’s Dean…I’m Sam.” 

Seth leaned back against the table; folding his arms across his chest amusingly. “Winchester huh? That’s cute.” He twittered, waving the glock around. “Like the gun right? So what hair-brain came up with that?”

“As opposed to being named after a kiwi-accented lizard on an insurance commercial?” Dean sassed cleverly at Seth. 

“That’s Geico not Gecko you idiot.” Richie icily simpered on the bed; casually surfing around the web on his phone. He looked up and shot the bravado an ominous glare. “And we’re Irish-Italian not Australian.”

“Ah well thanks for the history lesson Bill Nye. But what side of the family has you sprouting scales?” 

Richie threw Dean a sardonic lopsided quirk. “Too complicated for you; it would just bypass through that thick skull of yours.” Then he lowered his eyes at the screen of his cell; Sam noticed this.

“What’s he doing over there?” shaggy giant pondered out loud to Seth; referring to the vampire typing away on the device.

Backing up from the captive men, Seth snapped his fingers at Richie; who’d been busily surfing the web on his phone for information on the Winchesters ever since Sam blurted out their identities. He wanted to see if there was any dirt on them based on how discreetly low key they were living. Once Richie had something concrete he lent his brother the phone. 

Seth nodded wryly; watching the violent content uploaded on YouTube Richie had managed to pull up. It was a video from six years ago that went viral of the Winchesters shooting up The First Bank of Jericho in California, a convenience store in Black Water Ridge Colorado, another bank in Wisconsin and Connor’s Diner in St. Louis Missouri with a Beretta PM125 and a Sa.Vz.61 Skorpion. Holy shit even we weren’t that coldblooded, the older Gecko brother thought grimacing at Sam and Dean, they could give our past crime spree a run for its money.

“Oh nothing just pulling up the Winchester greatest hits,” Seth threw at Sam cunningly; eyebrow puckered astonishingly as he revealed the video to the restrained brothers. “You boys have been busy haven’t you? Taking time off the monster-hunting for a little R&R sub-guns action; Pacino’s body count in Scarface wasn’t even this bloody.”

Sam and Dean shot each other a chagrined sigh over their shoulder as they shook their heads. The Geckos got the impression these two wanted to face-palm badly.

“Yah, except that wasn’t actually us.” Sam clarified disparagingly. “Our identities were kinda jacked.

“Long-ass crap story short, they were Leviathan copy-cat douchebags,” Dean added gruffly; smart-aleck. “Monsters friggin Xeroxed us in order to get us on America’s Most Wanted. Care to try another category for five-thousand Trebek?” 

Seth grimaced; scrutinizing the Winchesters then traded unreadable expressions with Richie. Something about these men fascinated the Gecko brothers; enough to press them for further details about their hunting. While they’d been getting slightly off topic in the discussion; Seth figured eventually they’d get around to Cross and Willet.

“So you two thrill-seekers just cross-country tour for things that go bump in the night?” the older Gecko brother let out an are-they-serious chortle; digging the sleep dust out of his eye turning to Richie. “Jesus I thought Tanner was a fucking nut job.”

“What the hell is even out there?” Richie chimed saucily, “Besides the shit we’ve seen?”

The Winchesters simultaneously threw each other an unblinking facial expression pinching their lips as if to say; “you wanna tell em’ or should I?”

“Ah screw it,” Dean retorted exasperatingly rolling his eyes; struggling under his restraints. “You’re new to this rodeo so I’ll give it to ya fellas straight.” And his face darkened. “Aside from our dearly departed buddy Cross, ghosts are real. So are shapeshifters. Demons. Vampires. Werewolves. Changelings. Evil long-pig eating clowns. Just about every friggin nightmare you can imagine exists; the whole enchilada. You name it we’ve hunted it.”

Seth’s jaw clenched as he squinted his brown eyes at the hunters. 

“Right,” the older Gecko brother scoffed dismissively. “And I suppose Santa Clause, the Tooth Fairy and Big Foot are all alive and kickin’ as well huh?”

“Actually not to bust your bubble Gucci-boy,” Dean berated sharply. “But Big Foot and Ol’ Saint Nick, hoaxes.” 

The Geckos stood slack-jawed; both crossing their arms over their chest. Sure they knew vampires, demons and otherworldly hell dimensions were real; but they never imagined the true scale of the supernatural. Even Richie who’d been reading up on Mesoamerican mythology for over a year didn’t fathom the extent of evil lurking within the shadows. And yet he was face to face with one of them earlier that night. 

“I see so if you and Sasquatch over here are supposed to be the X-Files,” Richie persisted in a mechanical tone; searching Dean Winchester’s face idly. “Why the fuck did you attack me instead of Cross? He wasn’t exactly an upstanding citizen.”

“Well when your face went Creature from the Black Lagoon,” the bravado quipped heedlessly; sneering at Richie. “I got the impression your kind ain’t exactly living on a vegetarian diet.” Dean paused for a second then interjected spryly at the vampire. “You’re the one who killed Cross aren’t you? Those gashes on his neck in the autopsy report…that was your handy work.”

Richie’s cheeks throbbed furiously releasing a miffed huff; rolling his tongue around in his mouth. It wasn’t his proudest moment; he’d done worse in the past but in this case the vampire had good reason for his actions. He couldn’t deny what he’d done nor did he want to after what that thing tried to do to his brother; after what he had done to so many innocent people. The only thing left to do was own up to it.

“Cross was a serial killer,” Richie confessed brashly; gritting his teeth. “I know for a fact that psychopath has killed hundreds; I saw it reading his damn soul.” the vampire could feel the anger burbling inside his stomach. “He kidnapped some people of ours and tried to kill my brother; so I ripped that bastard’s throat open. You jumped the wrong guy Eastwood; not really the sharpest tool in the shed are you?”

Dean glared at Richie slyly. “Yah well instincts kicked in at that moment and you know what; my gut tells me you’ve murdered a hell of a lot of people kid. You’re no saint, hell I’m not either but I’ve never intentionally or consciously wanted to hurt anyone.” Richie eyes were blazing hot; if he had lazar death rays this man would’ve been cinders by now. “You can sit there and yack my ear off all you want about how you’re justified in the lives you’ve taken. Sure there’ve been cases in the past of freaks trying to go straight but at the end of the day…a monster is still a monster.”

Immediately the color in the vampire’s face went wrathful bright red; glowering at the bravado with the intensity of a bull ready to charge. If there was one thing he was getting sick of, it was the incentive mocking of his supernatural infliction. Only Seth was allowed to do that even if he hated it. Grilling his teeth in his mouth; Richie leaped off the bed to his feet.

“You sure like wagging that wise-ass jaw of yours don’t you,” the culebra growled sullenly; irises turning yellowish green reptilian slit pupils and exposing his snake-like fangs in attempt to intimidate the captives. He succeeded as the Winchesters shuddered in their seats the moment they noticed his human eyes had altered. “You know I haven’t fed in a while and I could really use a little pick-me-up.”

That was Seth’s cue to intervene; scurrying in front of the vampire and holding him back. He knew what Richie was capable of if he got angry enough; bravado and shaggy giant didn’t have a damn clue. They didn’t even know what he was or how to take something like him down. Even if they were skilled monster hunters they were amateurs when it came to the knowledge of culebras; didn’t fathom how powerful and deadly these things could be. And the only thing standing in the way of Richie fully embracing his homicidal snake tendencies was his humanity.

“Enough Richard, stop!” Seth urged his preternatural sibling pushing him backwards; gesticulating like a tamer would a ferocious animal. “Stop it!”

Those images of a monstrous foaming-at-the-mouth Richie in Xibalba still rattled him; terrified Seth to the core. And he couldn’t bear to ever see his brother like that again. Tossing his safety adjusted glock on the bed; Seth grabbed both sides of Richie’s face with his hands locking eyes with him. 

“Hey, hey, hey Richie, look at me. Look at me!” his softened voice breaking through the vampire’s rage. “Come back to me buddy, alright.”

Hostile growls and hissing began to slowly die down in the culebra’s throat as he focused on Seth; agonizing eyes staring back at his frantic mortal sibling. Richie could see his menacing reptilian glare reflecting back at him in his brother’s dark irises; causing him to shudder in shame. No, those weren’t his eyes; that wasn’t him. Immediately the vampire squeezed them shut; breathing heavily as the ire drained. When he opened them again, Seth could see they were a very human but glistening rhinestone blue; jaw clenching. Relief overcame the older Gecko brother; releasing his hands from Richie’s pale face patting his chest.

“You okay?” Seth asked again; kneading the culebra’s arm.

Richie let out an exasperated huff but nodded.

“Yah.” He answered dryly; regaining his composure.  
Then the brothers in suits turned back to bravado and shaggy-hair’s flabbergasted expressions.

“What the hell is he anyway?” Dean grimaced; voice appalling. “Sam and I have ganked so many freaks over the years and never come across anything like dragon-boy. So what’s his deal?”  
Richie distained the bravado’s remarks exchanging shrugs with Seth. The Winchesters after all did share a bit of their history with the Geckos. “I’m a culebra.” He responded stolidly.  
Sam’s face seemed to be silently quizzical. “What’s a culebra?”

“It’s a serpent species of vampire from ancient Mesoamerican lore.” Richie affirmed grimly as if he were reading a textbook. “And there are plenty of us out there; surprised you chumps haven’t hunted one yet.”

The captive duo’s brows puckered. 

“Crap I thought one species of vamps was enough,” the bravado sulked; hanging his head. 

“Sounds like a cousin of the vetala,” Sam informed the Geckos; glancing back at Dean sitting behind him for his reaction.

Seth squinted confusingly; arms crossed. “A what?”

“A Vetala; they’re these snake-like monsters who feed like vampires,” Sam drawled, “It’s from Hindu mythology; only their faces don’t shift full reptile like your brother. Anyway it’s not important.”

“And what about ah Clooney here?” Dean prodded; jerking his chin at Seth. “Shedding any scales with buddy-boy these days?”

Seth’s brows knitted in an are-you-shitting-me format; scoffing offensively. The mere thought of that ever being a factor just irked him. The older Gecko brother despised snakes with the exception of his preternatural sibling; abandoning his dream on a sunny beach was out of the question.

“Have I been wading around in the snake pit?” Seth snorted, rolling his dark eyes at the Winchesters. “Yah, not in this fucking life time Bravado.”

“He’s human.” Richie confirmed icily; eyes gleaming like stolid shards between his mortal sibling and the Winchesters. “And he wants to die on a beach someday; isn’t that right brother?”

“Thank you Richard, like they really needed that information.”

While the room continued to buzz with chatter between Seth and the Winchesters; in the background Richie was distracted by eerie indistinct rackets coming from outside the motel. It made his ears twitch vibrantly as he tilted his head. He didn’t like this feeling. What the hell was that? The culebra could feel something malevolent occurring not far from the window; not even the shut curtains could drown out these threatening sensations. And then that smell hit him. Richie’s nose crinkled in disgust realizing it was the same foul aroma Cross had given off back at the warehouse.

Seth and the Winchesters immediately acknowledged the despondent vampire standing with his back to them; like an alarm ready to go off. 

“Richie?” the older Gecko brother called wearily; unraveling his crossed arms. 

“Hey dude, what the hell?” Dean chirped from the chair trying to get the culebra’s attention; glancing back at Seth. “Is he always this weird?”

Seth let out a miffed sigh at the hunter and turned to his preoccupied sibling gawking intensively at the main window by the door. “Richard? Richard what’s the matter; what’s wrong?”

“You hear that?” the vampire responded agitatedly; glancing back at his human sibling wild-eyed. “Something’s wrong, brother.”

“Can he hear something we can’t?” Sam queried; raising a brow suspiciously at the Geckos. “Is that a…culebra thing?”

“Richie’s got heighten senses among other trinkets,” Seth muttered; attempting to console the rattled vampire. “It’s a package deal being a snake; and his ability to sense shit is usually pretty damn accurate.” 

“Okay so how accurate are we talking?” Dean prattled anxiously; shifting around in his seat. 

Without warning the vampire rushed at the Winchesters chairs with impressive strength and speed; pushing them up against the far wall and grabbed Seth away from the window. Just as he’d done this there was a sudden explosion of glass knocking the table over; spraying thousands of tiny shards throughout the room. The brown curtains moved and to the horror of all four occupants a ravenous horde of milky-gazed wounded looking people hungrily emerged from the shattered threshold.  
________________________________________

“Ah craptastic!” Dean exclaimed as he and Sam struggled back to back under the tight rope of their restrained wrists and ankles; monsters coming towards them with savagely tendon-torn snapping jaws. “It’s Return of the Living Dead in here Sammy.” 

“Dean we gotta get out of these chairs!” Sam croaked intermittently, shaking and pulling at his ropes. “If we rock them to the side; we might be able to break them!”

“Easier said than done Captain Obvious.” 

Groaning and shrieking severely injured people with similar moonlit eyes and mutilated features shuffled quickly towards the Winchesters and the Geckos scattered in different areas of the room. Squinting his eyes Dean recognized one of the assailants to be the motel manager he and Sam met earlier when they checked in; spotting the guy’s alloy orange vest with the gold plate tag reading MANAGER on the front. Zeroing in on his chest the Winchesters could see that his guts had been torn out; similar to Charlie the security guard back at the mortuary. 

“Richard, get your balls on!” the tattoo suited Gecko brother’s frantic voice shouted over the sea of gurgling and grunting.

“Already screwed on brother!” the suit and glasses Gecko brother exclaimed.

Spontaneous gunfire erupted as Seth and Richie armed with their glock 19 and Taurus PT99 mercilessly shooting at the creatures. Bullets ripped through rotten flesh, splattering blood on the floor and walls with no success of dropping the bodies; until they aimed higher between the eyes. In a way the Geckos were keeping the zombies distracted as the Winchesters worked together to rock their chairs side to side in hopes of breaking free. The ropes were too tight though and at one point Sam found himself nearly accosted by one of the monsters when Richie jumped to his aid; stabbing it in the head with a tribal looking knife he’d been using.

Dean was infuriated. The guy had time to push their seats back all the way to the end but not undo their restraints?

“Hey thanks for the warning Godzilla!” the hunter sarcastically chastised the vampire; fighting amongst the chaos. “We could’ve used that kind of assistance with these friggin ropes before the Walking Dead cavalry decided to show up!”

“How the fuck was I supposed to know Rick Grimes brought a few buddies back with him!” Richie growled; shooting a couple zombies in the head before reloading his gun with a new cartridge. “Besides I’m kinda busy covering your asses over here dipshit!”

“A little help over here Richard?!” Seth cried out in the background as two undead creatures cornered him against the wall.

The culebra bristles instantly; viciously charging into the creatures threatening his brother, shooting and stabbing at them until they’re immobile. 

“Dean, watch out!” Sam shouted as an elder woman zombie lumbered at the Winchesters; chomping her crimson mouth close to Dean’s right shoulder.  
Before those teeth could sink into the hunter’s exposed skin BANG! Seth Gecko’s gun goes off creating a gaping exit wound from the back of its skull; spraying the two hunters with blood, bits of skull and brain. 

“Thanks!” Dean gibed at Seth; gritting his teeth as blood drizzled down his face while thrashing uncomfortably in his seat. “I needed a brain-goo shower!”

“Ah beggars can’t be choosers Bravado,” the older Gecko brother quipped back; pushing another creature to the wall and shooting it in the head. “You and the shaggy giant might wanna get your asses out of those chairs, before more of the undead legion show up for an evening snack!”

Sam’s face soured. “Well you kinda jacked us over with these ropes on our wrists and ankles GQ!”

“Yah sorry about that BFG!” Seth shrugged apathetically; shooting down three more creatures.

But Sam and Dean didn’t have time for bitterness; they were just appreciative the young man’s bullet struck down the monster and not either of them. However if they didn’t escape those ropes soon by the time the undead assailants multiplied, the hunters were gonna zombie chow.

Quickly the Winchesters rocked the wooden seats side to side; thrashing under the restraints using the strength in their legs. The Geckos meanwhile continued to fend off the horde with a combination of shooting, hand to hand combat maneuvers and knife gouges. No matter how many bodies went down, more creatures sprung through the broken window; shrieking as they awkwardly shuffled along the glass and carcases littering the carpet. 

Sam and Dean could see these creatures resembled emergency room victims based on the gruesome lacerations in their flesh; some missing limbs or part of their faces but all of them had the same vacant milky gazes, spider veins peeking through the neck and forehead of their oily grey skin with open chest cavities where their internal organs had been shredded out. To the hunters’ dismay these people appeared to be recently deceased civilians of Albuquerque. Just great! More people they were unable to save.

“Don’t these fucking things have a limit?!” Seth snapped; reloading then ducking out of the way of a drooling creature swiping at him whom he punched to the floor; finishing it with a bullet to the head. “They’re like goddamn cockroaches!”

“It’s Cross it has to be; every time that fucker kills someone they turn Deadite!” Richie shouted back at his brother; kicking and stabbing at a male and female zombie closing in on him. Quickly he jumped onto one of the beds, reloading and shooting his Taurus as the ravaging creatures swarmed the motel room. “He warned me about this shit but honestly I didn’t think the world would go 28 Days Later.”

Seth immediately shot the vampire and disquieting glare. “Jesus Christ Richard, you didn’t think that information might’ve been more useful to us earlier?!” 

“Not really the fucking time for bitching brother!” Richie scolded leaping off the bed back onto the floor shooting down more creatures; shielding his large frame in front of the Winchesters whom he glanced at. “If you guys wanna step in here anytime this century now would be great; running low on ammunition!”

Dean’s eyebrows puckered appallingly at the culebra. “Oh I’m sorry we’re kinda tied up at the moment dino-douche.” 

“Dean let it go!” Sam barked; struggling behind his brother. “We gotta rock these chairs; hurry!”

“Alright Sammy; lets friggin do this!”

Together the Winchesters began teetering their seats side to side; as Richie and Seth’s bullets thunderstruck the atmosphere of the room. Almost there, Dean thought as he could feel the chairs snapping behind his back. Then THUD! Sam and Dean’s seats separated from one another but now they were lying on the floor sideways; gaping as creatures were crawling towards them. Fortunately for Sam the impact of the fall resulted in two legs of his seat to break; which meant the rope that was secure around his ankles had popped off. He could move his legs now and probably stand though his wrists were still attached to the arm handles.

Dean was helpless on the floor; shuffling his dismembered chair toward another corner of the room. I’m getting too old for this crap, he grumbled under his breath; using all his upper body strength to slide across the frieze carpet. If only these restraints on his ankles weren’t so damn tight he might be able to budge his legs free of them.

CRASH! Another window shattered in the background. Sam spotted Richie desperately hurrying over fallen corpses to the second sleeping quarter of the room; poking his head inside then slamming the dividing door shut behind him.

“CHRIST!” the vampire shouted at the top of his lungs as the horde multiplied around the Geckos and Winchesters. The floor space was rapidly diminishing beneath their feet. “Ah guys they’re coming through the bathroom and bedroom windows; we need to board this shit up now!”

“With what Richard?!” Seth croaked frantically; shuffling aimlessly all over the trashed room as his nerves got the better of him; shooting at every fouling stench that tried to bite him. “It’s not like I can fucking pull a Bob Vela out of my asshole!”

“What about the TV?!” Sam suggested; struggling to regain his legs; backwards pushing zombies away from Dean while still tied to his chair. “Use the TV and dresser to barricade the dividing door; that might slow them down a bit!”

Instantly the Gecko brothers simultaneously threw Sam twin acquiesced expressions. However Richie seemed a little impartial to the idea; scoffing at the taller ridiculous looking Winchester stuck to his seat.

“That won’t hold them for long what with the gaping hole by the front door you idiot.”

Sam shrugged anxiously; letting out a frustrated huff fending off creatures with the broken chair legs. “Hey if you got any better ideas in that lizard head I’m all ears!”

“Ahh dudes!” Dean’s raspier voice shouted from the floor. “Fat Bastard just decided to crash the party.” 

Sam, Richie and Seth all turned their attention to the large broken window situated by the front entrance of the room. Color drained from their faces as a large horribly mutilated obese man in shorts and a red Hawaiian shirt wobbled through the threshold. The flesh of his plump chin has been chewed off; strands of skin and muscle tangled into his bushy wet beard. Some of his stomach inners and intestines were spilling out of the gaping hole in his belly. Grilling its blood-stained teeth the creature stretched out its flabby arms snarling at the trio wearing Oh-Shit expressions. 

“W-What the hell is that?!” Seth barked aiming his gun; backpedaling beside his preternatural sibling.

The culebra coherently glanced at his mortal sibling cocking an eyebrow; scrunching his nose. “It’s fucking ugly is what it is.” 

“Damn it!” the older Gecko brother scowled. “Where’s Shaun of the Dead when you need him?”

“Well actually brother, I kinda preferred Ed.”

Seth immediately shot Richie an incredulous look.

“Really Richard? That fat idiot got himself killed in the movie.”

Richie shrugged his shoulders sluggishly; with a clever smirk which seemed antagonize Seth. 

“He wasn’t the smartest guy on the block I’ll admit that but you know…I kinda liked his laid-back attitude on the whole apocalypse. Think about it brother, where would you wanna be if the world went to shit; in this dump? Or at a bar with a rifle, an endless supply of provisions and strong doors?” As the obese zombie drew closer with others following him; the culebra persisted on the topic. “And who would you wanna be with? A spineless dick who can’t shoot for shit or someone like Ed who can use a rifle and make you laugh? Besides he got be a video-gaming zombie at the end.”

Sam glanced tirelessly at Dean who shook his head with a grim face. Really, this was not the topic to be discussing while they were all fighting for their lives. 

“Dudes?!” Sam pipped at the Gecko brothers; who turned to him. “Now’s not really the time to be chatting cinema; not with Big Boy in front of us.” 

“Yah we’re trying not to die here fellas; cut the crap!” Dean tossed in drastically; hobbling sideways along the floor. Fat Bastard lumbered forward; nearly cornering the trio panicking the bravado hunter. “Speaking of douchebags, anyone wanna gank Pillsbury Doe-bitch here before he rolls us out?” 

Richie was about to fire his weapon when he realized it was empty; leaving him with only his knife for protection. So Seth decided to take the opportunity to get cheesy with this kill pushing past his brother; mimicking one of his favorite action movies of all time…Die Hard. It was just the golden opportunity to use that famous line.

Raising his glock and aiming for the large creature’s temple, squinting to his left; Seth coolly sputtered. “Yippee Ki Yay Motherfucker!”

Just as he pulled the trigger, *CRICKETS* the chamber was empty. Oh shit. Sam and Richie found themselves lost for words as they shot appalling expressions at the chagrined Seth. The only thing he could do was nervously chortle dropping the useless gun to the floor and snatching up one of the broken table legs.

The fat zombie lunged for Seth but he ducked away as Richie pursued the creature; checking it onto one of the beds with his whole body. Great now none of them had any guns; since all of the Winchester’s and Gecko’s backup weapons were stored away in the trunk of their vehicles. Melee weapons were their only source of protection and that wasn’t going to do them any good with the vast number of corpses hurdling through the broken window steadily; and pounding behind the dividing door.

Spreading out the trio fought off the growing horde best they could; especially without the use of Sam’s arms and Dean firmly attached to his seat scrounging around on the carpet. The bravado hunter didn’t think things could get any worse until he heard a gurgling throat growl close behind him. From out of the fallen batch of bodies littering the carpet sprung the manager zombie; legs immobile rapidly crawling towards him snapping its skeletal jaws.

“Crap!” Dean belched as the thing made a grab for one of his tied ankles.

Meanwhile Seth and Richie were busy wrestling Fat Bastard together with little success as he was just too large to take down. Sam was getting frustrated as two females and a male zombie were swarming around him; if only he had the use of his damn arms. The only thing he could think of doing was kicking them back with his long legs or head-bunting them. 

Dean was having the worst luck being the only person out of the four completely helpless; chased by a hungry mutilated corpse on the floor. He ran out of moving space; allowing the creature to gain the upper hand on him. Wide-eyed with horror when it clutched his ankle; Dean began to wiggle his feet giving it weak budges with the tip of his foot. The thing snarled viciously locking its milky gaze with the hunter. This was it; he couldn’t do anything. Just as Dean thought it was over; a bright white light blazed out of the main window through the torn curtains, engulfing the whole room.

It wasn’t a street lamp or the headlights of a car. It was something much more radiant. Sam and Dean knew that light; that high pitched sound accompanying it. The Geckos on the other hand were completely stunned. 

Suddenly the front door blasted off its hinges and in walked an attractive short-dark-haired, medium-built man, 30s; sporting a pair of dress shoes, a black suit, buttoned white-striped dress shirt, and loosened blue necktie accentuated by a beige trench coat. He was pale skinned and clean-shaven; wearing an unreadable expression on his face as his eyes, normally somber yet intelligent, were glowing like blue sapphire stones. Relief overcame the Winchesters when they recognized the man to be none other than their long-time friend and angel. Castiel.

“What the fuck?” Seth and Richie synchronously uttered; wide-eyed.

“Cass!” Dean shouted at the man; struggling with the zombie preparing to gnaw on the hunter’s foot.

The statuesque angel casually shuffled forward over fallen bodies approaching the first threat in his sights; the obese zombie that had been tangling with the Gecko brothers. Latching his hand on top of the creature’s cranium; Castiel dispensed the same bright heavenly light combusting through the zombie’s mouth and eyes. Once that glowing white brilliance subsided the corpse fell lifeless to the floor. Sam and Dean knew this to be the angel’s signature killing touch otherwise known as ‘smiting’; which could incinerate nearly any being from the inside out. 

Castiel turned to two more creatures that had been swarming around Seth and Richie; again touching the tops of the things' heads simultaneously and smiting them just as he’d done with the big fat guy. The Geckos were effectively baffled watching the angel move with a graceful ease dispatching one creature after another using an impressive combo of smiting and his handy ‘angel blade’ until reaching the Winchesters. Grabbing the manager zombie accosting Dean by the leg; Castiel yanked the thing away from his human friend using his powerhouse strength and jabbed the celestial blade through the center of its skull. 

Castiel then spun around to aid Sam trapped in a corner by the bed; seamlessly smiting and stabbing all three creatures trying to bite him. When they fell to the floor the tall hunter’s panic-stricken face began to shift into a more relaxed state; and Castiel’s eyes dimmed to his normal somewhat innocent blue gaze.

“Thanks Cass.” Sam murmured between breaths; feeling his heart still drumming with adrenaline.

“Don’t mention it.” The angel calmly responded in a gentle but deep raspier voice; which sounded like he had a mild case of laryngitis or strep throat.

After freeing Sam from the ropes attaching his wrists to the broken chair; the angel quickly hurried back to Dean still slung over on his side.

“Dude, took you long enough.” Dean graciously cracked at the trench-coated angel; who’d proceeded to cut the hunter loose out of his restraints. “I sent that last text four hours ago Cass; where the hell you been?”

“Sorry Dean, I gotta a little sidetracked on my way over here.” The angel admitted absently; scanning the floor of immobile corpses. “And by the looks of things I’d say my timing was impeccable.”

Sam was rubbing his wrists where they’d been tightly bound, awkwardly shambling towards Dean and Castiel; careful not to trip over the bodies under his feet. Without hesitation the taller hunter threw his arms around his brother; and they tightly embraced. Both of them were trembling with anxiety. They’d faced death countless times often coming out on the other end; but every time it happened panic consumed them. Nothing terrified Sam and Dean more than the thought of being ripped away from each other; it was unthinkable. Endlessly dying in each other’s arms didn’t do their nerves any favors either.

Seth and Richie were astonished into silence as they exchanged gawks at the touching moment between the Winchesters and the strange guy in the trench coat who’d just saved their asses. When Dean pulled back he touched Sam’s face with his palms; scanning him for any noticeable injuries.

“Sammy you okay?” the bravado’s voice was shaking with concern.

Sam nodded nonchalantly. “I’m fine Dean.” Disengaging from his brother; turning to Castiel. “How the hell did you find us anyway?” he queried the angel.

Castiel straightened his coat with a peculiar inscrutable expression; balancing his usual calm composure.

“Dean texted my phone earlier yesterday with whereabouts and coordinates of the place you were working a case at,” the angel informed the tall shaggy haired hunter; showcasing the screen of his cell displaying: SOS. “And a few hours ago he sent this. I could only assume you both were in peril for him to send me a distress signal.”

“Yah I sent Cass the SOS,” the older Winchesters simpered spryly; ushering Sam and the angel’s attention over at the befuddled faces of the Gecko brothers, “back at the warehouse while these two lunkheads were busy bitch-slapping one another. I figured we needed backup in case things went south here; and he’d know what to do.”

Sam scrutinized his older sibling; folding his arms pensively over his chest. Much as he was glad to be rescued by their celestial friend, there were holes in the story. “But he didn’t even know we were at the warehouse Dean; or if Heckle and Jeckle were gonna let us walk out of there alive.” The tall hunter quickly spun around to Castiel. “How the hell did you even know we were gonna be at the motel in this room?”

The angel tilted his head, doe-eye as if he were intensively reading sentences off Sam’s puckered brow. 

“I may not be able to teleport spontaneously the way I use to Sam; but I’m still connected with Dean.” Replied the angle solemnly; glancing quickly at the bravado hunter. “I can still feel whenever he is distressed.” Castiel paused mid-sentence and pointed at the shattered window which the Winchesters followed with their curious gazes. “And as for how I found you both here well…it wasn’t that hard to decipher once I noticed all the walking undead abominations stumbling through that.”

The Winchesters traded satisfied looks; pressing their lips firmly together.

“Well it’s good to see ya buddy,” Dean proclaimed; playfully slapping his friend’s shoulder. “But I thought you were busy with ol’ Lucy’s bed notch.”  
Castiel immediately shot the bravado hunter an unamused look. 

“You’re fortunate that I’m so savvy with your human slang Dean, otherwise I wouldn’t have understood a word of that.” The angel confessed dryly; face falling into a seemingly guilt-ridden expression like a puppy that had done something wrong. “No, I am embarrassed to confess that a few days ago Kelly had ditched me. But I have to admit for a human…that woman is very resourceful. I wanted to follow her trail but then I got your message.” His indignant eyes lifted towards the Geckos. “And considering the source I would say you needed my assistance more than she does right now.”

“Hey whoa time out!” Seth barked at the Winchesters incredulously; gesturing his palms into a ‘T’ shape then pointing at the impassive angel. “Not to shit on the little love fest going on here but does somebody wanna explain to us what or who the fuck the third Stooge is?!”

“And what’s with the sci-fi hobo-Neo lightshow shit?!” Richie sneered; suspiciously ogling the angel’s attire. “You don’t look like any suit salesman I’ve ever seen buddy.”

Castiel squinted his blue eyes dubiously at the Gecko brothers; spinning around to Sam and Dean. Something about the language the two younger men were using at the angel had offended him. It was harsher and more vulgar than the way the Winchesters spoke; not to mention very dim-witted. Sam and Dean had been listening to it all night; eventually tolerating the Geckos’ choice of swear-words.

“Yah these two have quite the potty-mouths,” Dean warned derisively; patting the angel’s shoulder as he faced the black-suited duo. “It could get ugly Cass so you might wanna plug some feathers into those ears.”

Seth and Richie were still waiting petulantly for an explanation until the angel finally sedately said: “I am Castiel.”

“Castiel?” Seth winced scrunching up his face like he’d eaten one of his brother’s Sour Patch Kids candies; crossing his arms dismissively. “Sounds like a brand of shampoo.”

The angel’s brow furrowed incomprehensively at the young man.

“I can assure you I’m not made of some foamy hair-product,” he demurred solemnly. “And I prefer ‘Cass’ for short.”

Richie’s arm protectively shot up in front of Seth as he stonily stared down the man in the trench-coat. All the while the Winchesters were standing in the background; musing over unusual introductions going on between their friend and their former abductors.

“What the hell is he supposed to be anyway?” Richie grimaced at Sam and Dean then switched back to Castiel; who’d drifted to the foreground. “An alien?”

“I’m an angel.” Castiel gently confessed to the culebra in his earnest gruff baritone; searching the young man’s face profoundly. “And I am also sensing that you are not human as well.”  
Cutting off the second part of Castiel’s response; the older Gecko brother jumped in agitatedly.

“Angels?!” Seth spurted; on the verge of a freak out gesticulating his hands at the Winchesters. “Like the cloud-pinching cherubs in halos, wings and skirts playing golden harps on Hallmark cards? Heaven? It’s all fucking real too?! Jesus I’ve heard it all.”

Richie’s ocean blue eyes went wide; cheeks throbbing. “Kate’s gonna love meeting this guy.” He cleverly smirked to himself. 

“Hey, hey don’t get all excited just yet Desperados.” Dean cynically tossed at the awestruck Gecko brothers; wavering his arms. “Angels are dicks. Trust us we’re the experts.”

Suddenly Castiel’s mild expression dimmed into suspicion; observing the two black suited young men thoroughly. Since arriving to find the Winchesters tied up being attacked by undead cannibals he had his own questions that needed answering. 

“Dean? Now would probably be a good time to enlighten me on who these men are,” the angel conveyed absently; glancing at the bravado hunter with stern eyes. “What the hell is going on and why I came to find you and Sam bound to those chairs?”

Uh-oh, the Geckos thought simultaneously as the room got chillier upon the angel’s request. After what Seth and Richie just witnessed Castiel do to those things, it probably wouldn’t have been in their best interest to piss off the guy. From the looks of it he was a hell of a lot stronger than a culebra. And they knew this conversation was going to shift eventually what with how Geckos and the Winchesters collided into one another under hostile circumstances. 

“Cass, this is Seth and Richie Gecko,” Sam inducted; tone more vexed. “The two men who abducted us earlier back at the warehouse.”

“What?” Castiel’s eyes were suddenly ablaze as he looked at the bravado hunter. The Geckos were beginning to panic on the inside as the angel’s usual calm demeanor became heated. “Dean is this true; were these two men holding you and your brother captive unwillingly, nearly getting you killed?”

Dean’s gaze was fuming at the two brothers in suits; folding his arms over his chest. This entire evening had been a total nightmare and it was all because of a couple hotshot crooked-kids in funeral ensembles. If they hadn’t interfered with the investigation into Cross the Winchesters might’ve closed this case by now. Seth and Richie’s arrogance and piss-poor attitudes nearly jeopardized Sam and Dean’s lives; it was something that he wasn’t ready to neither forgive nor forget.

“Yah.” Dean affirmed bitterly under his gruff tone; gnashing his teeth directing the angel’s attention to the Geckos. “That would be those douchebags.”

Castiel’s face immediately shifted into hostile rage; the color of his complexion shaded scarlet complimenting his glowing sapphire irises. Stepping in front of the Winchester’s defensively; the angel extended his arm out preparing to discharge a lethal celestial attack at the Gecko brothers.

“Hey! Whoa! Whoa what the fuck?!” Seth exclaimed; as he and Richie threw their hands up submissively. Firing panic-stricken looks at the Winchesters. “What the hell’s he doing Bravado?!”

“Watch where you’re pointing that fucking thing Mr. Rogers!” Richie pipped exasperatingly; breathing intensifying as he locked eyes with the impassive angel ready to strike.

“I don’t care for your choice of profanity,” Castiel growled. “And I am not some daytime children’s host on a television show. I am something more than your narrow mind can even comprehend.” The angel’s cheek twitched bitterly; glaring down the two young men. “You tried to harm my friends and I don’t take kindly to that.”

Ironically it was Dean who intervene the situation; stepping in front of the Geckos and blocking the angel’s power-charged palm.

“Cass wait!” the bravado hunter muttered forcefully; kneading the angel’s arm and tugging it downward. “Wait stop!”

Sam expression was appallingly shocked. “Dean what the hell!?” After what the Geckos had put them through the last thing he wanted to see was his own brother defending their kidnappers.  
Castiel’s antagonism slowly started subsiding; giving way to confusion as he tilted his head at the hunter preciously. This unexpected gestured astonished everyone in the room; even Dean didn’t understand what the hell he was doing.

“You’re protecting these low-life miscreants?” prodded Castiel furiously; glowering at Seth and Richie. “After what they did to you and Sam?”

“Look Cass, nothing would give me more pleasure than to gank these sons of bitches myself believe me,” Dean admitted impudently to both Sam and the angel; reflecting back on the hell he and his brother just endured at the hands of the criminal duo. But as much as he wanted to hate the Geckos he couldn’t forget the way they’d unexpectedly protected him and Sam from the undead hordes. It was because of that small sentiment the bravado felt empathetic enough to spare them. Then he turned to Seth and Richie who were stunned for words. “But Frick and Frack over here did save our asses. They could’ve left us to die and didn’t. And they’re also part of the case Sammy and I are working on; they might be able to help. So for that I’m giving these boys a little leeway.”

The radiant blue light in Castiel’s gaze descended; boring his eyes on the Gecko brothers. Dean released his hand and the angel could feel himself returning to his composed demeanor; folding his arms over his chest.

“Well I guess you do have a point there.” He grumbled grouchily.

Seth pressed his palm to his chest to calm the drumming of his heart; Richie at his side doing his best to console him. They were nearly slaughtered by an angel and protected by one of the men they’d held hostage earlier. How many damn lives do we have, the older Gecko brother chided in his head. And in some way he and Richie were a little bit touched by Dean’s act of compassion; something that neither of them deserved.

“So what do we do now?” Sam pondered; shoving his hands in his pockets and shifting from one foot to the other. 

“First things first, Cass heal them.” Dean instructed his celestial friend; ushering his attention at Seth and Richie.

“What?” the culebra belched; scratching at his brow indecisively.

The angel was dumbfounded.

“You want me to grant these Neanderthals some comfort?” Castiel protested; glaring at the young men in black suits.

“It’s cool,” Seth bellowed anxiously; waving his hands and then circling his left arm against his sore ribs. He’d forgotten about that injury and he certainly didn’t want a celestial being poking at him. “I don’t need to see anymore of Eleven’s tricks.”

But Dean wasn’t having any of it; grimacing at the older Gecko brother.

“Are you kidding me? I’ve been watching you for the past several hours GQ; limping and subtly holding your side,” affirmed the hunter abrasively; a line going across his forehead. “Doing this job for as many years as I have; ya spot cracked ribs easily. And if we’re doing this we need you asshats healthy not friggin slowing us down.”

The vampire’s face twisted apathetically.

“I don’t even need healing,” Richie interjected; setting his jaw scowling at the angel and the Winchesters. “Already have the ability to regenerate.”

“Yah but your recent malnourished antics have resulted in carelessness Richard,” Seth chided his preternatural sibling. “Your God damn game is all off; even your usual snake powers are getting useless.”

“Hey didn’t I just fucking sense the Army of Darkness before they hit us?!”

“ALRIGHT!” Dean’s voice erupted throughout the room; silencing the other four occupants. Then he turned to the angel; pinching his temple. “Cass please, just fix them already. I can’t take anymore bitching tonight.”

Reluctantly Castiel approached the Gecko brothers, extending his arm; cheeks twitching irritably. But to his surprised Seth was resistant to even be a few feet of the angel; worried of something painful in the process.

“Whoa hey, he’s not gonna smite me is he?” Seth muttered nervously; backpedalling and fixated on the angel’s motions like a hawk.

Castiel sighed rolling his eyes; pressing two fingers gently against the older Gecko brother’s temple. “Relax.” He stoically advised. Removing his fingers when he’d finished the process, the angel queried. “How do you feel now?”

Seth’s crunched face smoothed; pressing down on his ribs he was astonished to find the pain had completely dissolved. He felt like a million bucks, maybe even better than before.

“Holy shit!” he exclaimed with a bewildered smirk. “I feel fucking fantastic!” then the older Gecko brother graciously patted the angel’s arm. “Hey thanks Clarence.”

However once Castiel had healed Seth he’d received unexpected flashes and feelings that made him weary; unexplained images that rattled him. There was something about this young man that was definitely out of the ordinary which was odd considering he was as human as the Winchesters. The angel got the sneaking suspicion Seth and Richie were of great importance because when he turned to heal the culebra the same peculiar sensation washed over him. The other strange anomaly was that while Richie wasn’t human Castiel picked up on something within his condition that confounded him.

“What’s the matter?” the culebra scrutinized the angel’s unreadable exterior.

“Cass what is it?” Sam inquired curiously in the background; leaning against the wall.

“You’re not human,” Castiel stalely replied the vampire; tilting his head observing the young man’s glasses complexion.

Richie’s eyebrows puckered sardonically. “Yah I think we already established that Bogart." He scoffed; throwing his hands on his hips. “What’s your point?”

“This is….unusual I’ve never come across anything like this…never come across a species such as yours.”

“Cass quit jerking our cords,” Dean prodded, “What’s up?”

The angel swallowed preparing to lower bomb on the younger Gecko brother; face darkening.

“He’s not human…but part of his soul is still human.” Castiel affirmed gently in his gruff baritone; eyes scanning. “Whatever sort of creature this man is, I’m assuming this is an abnormality among his kind.”

At first Richie didn’t know how to absorb this new light of knowledge. He’d just heard from Cross hours ago that part of him was Xibalban and that he and Seth were part of some grand design in an ancient text. It was information he’d chosen not to share with his brother for his own protection. But now part of his soul was still human? What the hell? The vampire wasn’t ready to hear that. Ironically though it made sense to some degree considering he retained his humanity after the transformation; still wore his glasses even when his vision was 20/20 and still vowed never to take another innocent life. 

As much as he’d been a puzzle to himself before and after becoming a culebra, this was a whole other curve ball for Richie to explore. Even Seth was abstract over this revelation. Part of him was human; but what did that mean? 

“We need to leave these premises,” the angel finally broke the silence; turning to the Winchesters. “I sense more of those abominations will be coming.”

“And where the fuck are we supposed to go Clarence huh?” Seth grumbled at the angel; scratching his hair. “The city’s probably infested with those damn things.”

“Well we can’t really dick around in this joint,” Dean sneered; shuffling over the bodies towards the gaping window and peering outside. “And we gotta get to the cars with all our gear and ammo.”

Richie had been spaced out momentarily then snapped out of it just when he remembered something specific.

“Wait, I know where we can go,” the vampire suggested stonily; shuffling towards Dean at the window. “There’s a compound I purchased not far from the outskirts of Albuquerque. We can shack up there and regroup.”

“Alright then let’s boogie.” The hunter concurred spryly; giving Richie a light slap on the shoulder turning to his brother. “Sammy I’m gonna jet over to our room and grab our bags; see if the coast is clear. You and Cass take the Boondock Saints and scrounge up our keys, IDs, phones, wallets, anything important and head to the cars.”

Sam immediately jogged past Richie heading back to Seth, towards his brother wearing a troubled expression; furrowing his brows.

“You sure about this Dean?” he hesitantly questioned the bravado hunter; ushering their attention toward the Geckos socializing with Castiel. “I mean we don’t even know them and you want to trust them now? They abducted and tried to kill us. That’s not exactly inspiring confidence in me.”

“Yah but they also saved our lives Sammy,” Dean reminded his taller sibling. “And I have this feeling in my gut that they’re connected to what’s happening. Mean you heard Cass, lizard boy’s got long-pig in him.”

“But what does that even mean?”

Dean let out a miffed sigh; rubbing at his stubble face.

“I don’t know. I thought we were only dealing with Thriller and some crypt-keeping cowboy. Instead we’ve entered the Twilight Zone of crap."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well there you have it, Castiel's introduction into the crossover along with more witty snark between the Winchesters and the Geckos. Stay tuned, more to come ^_^


	6. Chapter 5

City Hall, Albuquerque…

19 hours until the beginning of the Ascension…

Dawn was on the rise as Gary Willet’s important night was vast approaching. Just hours away until Dia de los Muertos would grant him the window needed to successfully open the Underworld gateway. He already had Maximillian Cross setting up his army of the dead but there were still some preparations needed to be made before the ascension began. Eight certain ingredients needed to be gathered in order to complete the spell of merging hell with earth as well as shutting out light forever; it would take days to accomplish that goal as these items needed to be administered in an authentic order. 

Willet already acquired Amaru’s amulet as the first item as well as the queen’s virgin vessel. Later during the festival he and four other members of Circulo Mortis would bless the gateway with their blood and sacrifice several souls on hollow ground while opening the vortex between the living and the dead. But the necromancer still required four more specific components; that was if all went accordingly in South Valley. So far he knew los hermanos Geckos were hot on his trail after what he’d psychically witnessed through Cross back at the warehouse; and quite possibly they weren’t alone in their crusade what with another duo sniffing around Albuquerque in the wake of Cross’s reanimation. The old hombre couldn’t let that concern him while preparations were assembling.

In the state of New Mexico, the appointed leaders of the Circle gathered together for the evening at Albuquerque’s City Hall; a large rectangular eight story building with seven rows of tall windows going all the way around simulating a giant concrete honeycomb. During the day this building belonged to the Mayor’s administration but during the night it had become the temporary hive for the Xibalban necromancers’ covenant. The ranger had taken charge of the gathering; discussing the arrangements for the ascension as well as choosing those worthy to submit their blood as part of the eight crucial ingredients. 

The discussion between Willet and the other faction leaders took place on the top floor within an elliptical structured boardroom; floor was a textured beige carpet with a long oval table positioned in the middle, seating all the alpha necromancers in black leather seats and each chair had their own card displaying a member’s name standing in front of them. Chandeliers mimicking space saucers hung from the ceiling above. The walls were egg-white embroidered with refined oak borders giving them the same rectangular shape as the windows; some displaying picture frames of abstract art. Blinds were closed in order to shut out the approaching light of morning with only the decorative lamps on the table giving off a creepy orange tinctured atmosphere. 

The old hombre stood before the board reciting his strategy with the Circle leaders; detailing an agenda that had been centuries in the making since their exile from Xibalba. The faces before him were mixed in all walks of life; from lawyers to relaters and law enforcement; even the mayor of Albuquerque’s assistant Alexis was a Circulo Mortis leader. Necromancers had to be sufficient at blending into society in order to relieve suspicion as they were immortal beings from a forsaken plain of existence. When they greeted or were in the presence of one another they would draw an invisible omega-like unfinished circle upon their forehead; the very symbol of their covenant which each member wore as a silver ring on their right hand.

“Gentlemen, the dawn of a new era has finally approached us,” Willet affirmed in his usual dark gravelly but charismatic southern accent; enthusiastically pacing the around the table. “Several hours from now I will be administerin’ the first two items of the ascension; with of course the…ever so helpful assistance of my fellow bad ol’ boys here.” He paused for second on the floor bringing up his hand as if a lightbulb had gone off in the moment. “Now, that all bein’ said and dandy not everyone here will get a crack at the pot. Only a selective five, myself included, deemed worthy will submit the Circles’ blood and I do mean worthy.” 

An alpha necromancer dressed as realtor with the card reading ‘Sebastian’ was the first to throw his input into the discussion. 

“And who may I ask will be deemed worthy enough to bless the vortex with their blood?” the ranger immediately spun around; following the icy tone belonging to his colleague, slightly hunched forward with his hands folded like a cup in front of him next to his mug of coffee. He was 30ish, tanned, clean cut wearing a lavender pinstriped suit and deep hazel eyes that seared into the old hombre. When he spoke it was a mixture of ancient wisdom, deep like a well, and a youthful hipster fresh out UCLA. This faction leader had an approachable exterior that complimented his mild texture of his voice, perfect for a successful realtor. Sebastian was one of Xibalba’s oldest and most powerful necromancers next to Willet; indicating the two usually butted heads on occasion. “Are you just going to have us all stand around and draw names out of your hat?

Willet let out a sardonic cackle; unintimidated by his colleague. Sebastian however wasn’t amused; impatiently drumming his fingers on the table allowing the old ranger to take the floor once again.

“Why friend, is that the stink of envy I’m sensin’?” the old hombre sneered; cleverly leaning against the table invading the relator’s space. “Just because you weren’ in the possession of the queen’s shiny bobble; ain’ no reason be to be gettin’ them panties in a bind.”  
The other faction leader glowered at the hombre; tightening his upper lip.

“This is a song we’ve heard from you more than once Willet,” Sebastian chastised. “Do I need to remind you that your arrogance is part of what led to the expulsion of our kind?” the alpha necromancer’s face was sullen as his eyebrow perked up; bordering on lethal. “We have been planning our vengeance for the bitter part of ten centuries; waiting to obtain the heart of Xibalba. Instead we’re robbed of our chance to take the queen’s head because you wanted to play around with the brothers’ little peacekeeper.”

“Ah now we gettin’ to the root of it ain’ we Sebastian?” Willet revealed shooting the realtor a wry face; sliding off the table to his feet. “This is about ma little side dealin’s with a certain perdy culebra biddy. Shit brother that was me playin’ all sides to ensure our ownership of that there amulet. No one and I mean no one has the Circle’s best intentions more than I do.”  
Each of the faction leaders turned to one another chatting indistinct before Sebastian responded. Willet’s uneven smirk was confidently plastered; taking out a breath mint from the breast pocket of his black jacket and popping it into his mouth.

“We don’t make deals with the bottom-feeders Willet.” Sebastian growled; the orange light of the lamp reflecting in his hostile glare. “Culebras are the undead; the shit swimming below the sewers. We either burn their miserable hides out in the desert sun or sterilize them into mindless foot soldiers. Your little offer with Venganza nearly cost us everything. And you were supposed to kill that peacekeeper.” 

The old hombre flicked his hat up with his thumb and index finger; grimacing at Sebastian as the mint rolled around in his mouth. 

“Had I killed Dudley-Do-Right back there; them Gecko boys would’ve been fit to be tied with suspicion,” Willet clarified dryly; face darkening as he touched his holster. “We do not draw attention to ourselves or is that ancient memory of yours lackin’ spice these days?”

“What about Maximillian Cross?” the faction leader named Miguel queried; deep voice absent of emotion. Willet spun around facing the robust Cuban-American attorney. “He violated the code of Circulo Mortis; nearly exposing us with his relentless addiction to murdering civilians for the purpose of dead-fusing. And yet…you still reanimated him to be your fulcrum in the ascension.”

Willet thought for a minute before responding as the tension in the room thickened. He should’ve left Cross to his death; damn well deserved it for being so arrogant and callous with his divinities. But the old hombre carried a soft spot for the beta necromancer being that Cross was Willet’s protégé. The ranger taught the guy everything when it came to the art of resurrection, manipulation and control over the deceased back in their Xibalban days; he was an extremely gifted occultist, the hombre’s dedicated right hand. And he vied for a place one day amongst the other faction leaders. Willet and Cross spent centuries planning the ascension together and studying the Mayan legends such as the twins of a forthcoming prophecy.

Unfortunately there was nothing Willet could do about Cross’s insatiable hunger for dead-fusion; a severely intoxicating process in which a necromancer bonds with/absorbs a deceased soul into their body heightening their powers. Cross took that high to a whole other level by using his own meat-packing factory for the bases of his nightly rituals; killing civilians in order to fuse with their souls once they were deceased. Willet was forced to shut down the factory over a decade ago because of this. Cross’s abuse of power led to his ultimate demise. He’d pissed off the Geckos and foolishly sputtered about the ascension back at the warehouse; things the hombre was going to deal with once Cross reported back to him.

“Ah yes dear ol’ Maximillian,” Willet snickered cheekily; evading Miguel’s eyes. “Boy had a heck of a talent that I just couldn’ depart with seein’ how he was successful in obtainin’ the Geckos’ lil’ friends. Mind you that sweet lil’ angel downstairs is the queen’s former vessel; a vital component of the ascension spell bein’ that she is our catalyst. And as for the serpent pup; well he’d make a fine addition to the drone squad.” 

The other alpha necromancers turned to one another; quietly chattering their agreement. But then another faction leader’s voice spoke up; this time it was the card reading Archimedes; he was a more heavier set frame with a goatee yet still spry and intimidating when Willet glanced back at him.

“Cross’s actions have already jeopardized the Circle,” he scolded the old hombre harshly; pressing his fingertips against the surface of the table. “The brothers are suspicious enough as it is ever since that straggler of yours decided to poke the bear getting himself dead in the process. Who knows what that insolent fool has been sputtering off about.”

“I can assure you gentlemen that ma boy is a necessary key in this whole operation and he is loyal to me.” Willet encouraged with a cunning lopsided grin; animatedly gesticulating as he continued pacing around the sixteen chairs. “He’s already begun buildin’ our army for the late jamboree evenin’. And if those bad ol’ Geckos dare interfere with a few extra hands; the stray horde will make short work of em’.”

“But how can we be certain that you’ve got Cross firmly under your thumb?” scrutinized Alexis the mayor’s assistant; voice daunting with hostility. “That maniac is a loose-cannon whose probably told los hermanos Gecko more than he should have; they’re supposed to remain in the dark about all this Willet!” 

“As they are gentlemen as they are; you have ma word on that. Cross‘ll remain an obedient drone; that I can guarantee.” 

Though in the back of his mind the hombre knew this was false; what with how Cross deliberately spilled to the younger Gecko minor hints about the prophecy and the storm brewing.  
Sebastian sat with a skeptical frown, throwing in his two cents at Willet; rubbing the irritation from his brow. “You should’ve left him dead. If he screws this up, Xibalba will once again slip through our fingers; and that will be on you.”

The old hombre spun around with a wolfish expression; quickly shuffling towards the other faction leader. “Another go around then huh Sebastian? Well giddy up partner.” he had the look of a hungry predator staring back at the realtor; with his teeth slightly gnashing in his mouth. “How many times must we tango like this friend, before you get the gist of ma vision?” 

“I don’t trust Cross. He’s been a liability to the Circle ever since he was caught dead-fusing. How do we know he didn’t say a word about the covenant when those brothers captured and killed him?”

Willet’s tongue anxiously sloshed around in his mouth as he glared back at the other alpha; mind rewinding to the moment he looked down on Cross’s mutilated body in the morgue to his reanimated protégé’s confrontation with the Geckos at the old meat-packing factory. The faction leaders had every right to voice their concerns; Cross was even more reckless since his reanimation, more than he ever was alive. But the hombre couldn’t let that knowledge disrupt his goal. Willet would deal with that maggot infested idiot later but for now his concern remained on the topic of choosing the next four candidates to submit the Circle’s blood.

“Questioning ma decision to raise Cross from purgatory?” the hombre’s voice was appalled; bitterly glancing around at the other necromancers seated at the table than back to Sebastian.“Are you suggestin’ that I am incapable of proceedin’ this here mission of absolution?”

“I’m suggesting that you don’t have a handle on things as much as you proclaim,” snarled Sebastian; eyes petulant. “I’m suggesting that maybe it’s time we appointed a new front of this council since you prefer to put your emotional attachments for a dead traitor before the Circle.”

Willet’s blood was boiling. If there was one thing he couldn’t stand, it was his long-time rival criticizing his loyalties to their covenant. How dare this bastard. The only thing Willet ever thought about in all these years earthbound was taking back Xibalba; carrying out vengeance on the queen and all her minions for casting his kind out of their home simply because she was insanely jealous of them. This mission was his life and he wasn’t going to let some prick throw a wrench in it all. 

“Listen here friend,” the hombre sneered at the realtor; hand on his holster. “I spent many pain-staking long years in exile cooking up this lil’ pet project with Cross. It’s been our life’s work. So he stays on this pony; end of discussion!”

“What about the brothers?” Archimedes inquired sullenly in the background. 

The old hombre winked at the other alpha necromancer smugly; waving his hand dismissively. “Now you best leave those boys ta me and ma protégé; we clear?”  
Sebastian was seething; cheeks throbbed mirthlessly. “Damn it Willet, the brothers can’t know about the prophecy or their role in the ascension!” the realtor pounded his fist on the table; shaking it causing the other necromancers to flinch. “The nine lords kept them oblivious from their destiny for a reason; los hermanos Gecko will bring chaos upon the Underworld if they ever learn who really they are.” 

“The nine lords are dead Sebastian; dust in a desert breeze,” informed the old hombre; curling his lips devilishly as he pulled out his glock 45. “And as for them prophecy boys well, I am in the midst of takin’ care of that. But right now I am more preoccupied in the chosen four to bless that gateway.” 

“We need the sun twin core of Hunahpu! It’s the most essential ingredient of the spell; that which will silence all light forever!”

“And I will maintain that there precious core; count on it friend,” Willet prattled inscrutably. “But all in good time; these components are supposed to be administered in such a fashion. It’s not the time to go poking and prodding at that boy just yet.”

Willet gradually turned and strolled away from the disparaging alpha necromancer; coolly pulling out a piece of shredded wheat from his trouser pocket to chew between his teeth. 

“Dumb hick.” Sebastian snorted irritably shaking his head; reaching for his mug of coffee. 

BANG! Just as he did this Willet had spun around like lightning and fired his gun. The direct impact of the bullet ripped a gaping hole through the palm of Sebastian’s left hand; splattering blood all over the table. Excruciating howls erupted from his throat as he clutched his bleeding palm. Mere mortal weapons couldn’t kill alpha necromancers however these things could still inflict massive amounts of pain. A sight such as this satisfied the old hombre as he marched forward, tongue coiling around the wheat stem in his mouth; grabbing the realtor by the jaw.

“Jesus you fuck!” Sebastian spat out in agony; glaring at the hombre.

“Let that be a fair warning to ya friend,” Willet’s gravelly voice hissed in the wounded faction leader’s ear cunningly. “The next time you test me, this bad plum in here’s gonna take that feeler off. And I know you’ll just pull a fast one and heal but I do delight in watching you wail like a jackass.” Lifting his head up he pointed the glock at the other faction leaders; who’d thrown up their hands submissively. “Anybody else care to weigh in?”

No one spoke. The hombre clucked his tongue cheekily, clicking on the safety of his glock; spinning it before securing it back into the pouch of his holster. After a moment of stewing and agonizing over the wound enflaming the flesh of his hand; Sebastian was stunned to silence as were the other faction leaders. And Willet went back on course of the discussion; smugly tipping his hat at the realtor and pacing around the table.

“Now, in answer to your earlier question no, I will not be the one to select those worthy,” the hombre admitted pausing on the floor; reaching inside his jacket pocket and pulling out Amaru’s necklace which he cleverly dangled in front of the board members. “This little firecracker here does all the talkin’. If the bobble blinks red when yall touch it…your blood will suffice the vortex. If not, well then you best sit on the sidelines during this dance.”

One by one the hombre made his round with the amulet like a game of “duck, duck goose” until he got a reaction. So far Alexis the mayor’s assistant, Miguel and Archimedes were all chosen by the scarlet light of the stone. Yet when Willet got to Sebastian…nothing; not even a blip. This caused the realtor to fold his arms and puff his cheeks furiously but for the hombre he couldn’t help but gloat; chuckling sadistically inside. 

“Sorry friend,” he chided with glee; swinging around the chain of the amulet and patting the faction leader on the shoulder. “Guess you goin’ be sittin’ out this here rodeo. Better luck next time.” 

The last faction leader with the card reading Stefan was chosen. As Willet secured the amulet back on his person he proceeded to close the board meeting with his fellow Circulo Mortis members. While doing so he noticed the oak doors of the room open; revealing a lanky hooded figure standing at the edge of the threshold next to the tall culebra drone bodyguard. The fouling stench he was giving off enticed the air which made the room of necromancers scrunch their noses in disgust. 

Chewing on the inside of his cheek; the hombre realized it was his undead protégé. Immediately Willet politely excused himself from the other faction leaders and stalked towards the doors where Cross was waiting; his rattlesnake boots clicking their chains at the heels. 

“I told ya not to come here!” the hombre growled at the corpse with blazing eyes; ushering him away from the boardroom door, down the long carpeted hallway. “What in Hell’s fire are ya doin’ interuptin’ ma meetin’ with the Circle?!”

Cross shambled alongside of Willet with a limp in his stride. His raspy gurgling voice more aghast compared to his spitfire air of cockiness when he’d confronted the Gecko brothers at the abandoned factory. 

“My timing is inconvenient I know, but this couldn’t wait.” The corpse piped darkly as they turned a corner; heading straight for the elevators. “Earlier tonight…I had a little run in with the Geckos.” He admitted; nervously picking at the decomposing incision wound on his hand with his fungal nails. “It seems they’ve been following the trail of bread crumbs provided by my very own soul; didn’t think they’d actually be stupid enough to show up at my feeding ground.”

“I already know all this Cross; due to our psychic bind,” the hombre grumbled; clenching his jaw as he pressed the ‘down’ button on the elevator. “And you are in the midst of tryin’ ma patience boy.” Fuming eyes fixated on his wristwatch. “I’m beginnin’ to think I made a critical error in judgement selectin’ you as ma right wing.”

Cross’s sunken eyes daunted at the hombre as he anxiously gulped back the alarm in his throat; releasing wet wheezing noises. 

“I know you’re furious with me sir but”- started the corpse; his crooked frame trembling.

“Ferocity doesn’ even begin to cut it!” Clipped the ranger; grinding the stem of wheat between his teeth.

Elevator doors opened and just as they walked inside punching the button to the basement floor, Willet lunged at the undead varmint; grabbing the hideous creature’s throat with his leather gloved hand and forcefully slammed it’s skull into the wall. Black tar like goo spewed out of Cross’s mouth; drizzling down the dried blood stains on his chin. He was dead so his he couldn’t really feel physical pain anymore however he was petrified of Willet. It was because of the hombre that Cross was even walking around again; he’d raised him and he could take back the creature’s undead existence with the snap of his fingers.

“You just caint keep well enough alone can you brother,” snarled the hombre with fiery coal-like eyes; tongue wedged between his teeth as he squeezed his grip. “Did I not warn you against traipsin’ with them Gecko boys again?!" He slammed the creature’s head into the wall repeatedly. “I outa strip that decaying hide of yours and use it as table cloth.”

Cross gasped out more black substance from his mouth; scrunching his cataracts eyes each time his skull connected with the elevator wall.

“Glamorous,” deadpanned the corpse; flailing his lanky arms about. “But I wasn’t trying to insult you sir. I wanted to make our point clear to them.”

“By nearly killin’ that Gecko with the most valuable component needed for this ascension?!”

“He’s still alive isn’t he?” SLAM!

“Ain’ got time for smart-alecks Cross,” Willet countered; grimacing at the undead abomination in the soiled miss-matched jogging outfit. “That boy carries the core of the Sun Twin. I caint very well silence all light and cross his brother over to the Underworld when it ascends on earth without that lil’ precious now can I?” 

“No!” burbled the creature; rolling his sunken eyes.

But the old hombre was just beginning to unleash his wrath on the corpse. Plunging him in to the next wall with impressive strength; growling under his breath. Willet’s nostrils flared viscously; eyes glowing like burning fireflies. This moron almost humiliated him in front of his council. He had to lie for Cross to his own comrades and that infuriated him. It was a deliberate betrayal of the Circle’s covenant. 

“The only reason your ugly mug is even shamblin’ about in this god forsaken mortal cesspool is because I took pity on you Cross,” Willet snarled; grilling his cigarette stained jaws as he slammed the corpse’s head into the wall two more times. “You are like ma own son. Countless centuries I defended your ass to the council; we put together this apocalyptic project together and this is what I get for it all?!”

“I’m sorry; I know!” choked Cross bitterly; white puss-like substances leaking from his moonlit eyes. “I d-didn’t mean to offend you sir! I only wanted to make you proud of me; show you that I was worthy enough to be a Circle leader. I just got carried away.”

“Is there anything else that I should be knowin’?” 

Cross’s sunken eyes anxiously avoided the hombre’s stern complexion; scanning around the elevator room gurgling uncontrollably when he realized the Geckos weren’t alone at the warehouse. During his confrontation with the taller of the two; they were ambushed by some mysterious trespassers. The corpse didn’t get a good look at them as they’d ensured his escape but somehow he had this feeling they were going to be a thorn in Willet’s side later.

“I think our clever young Geckos might’ve picked up some company along the way of their crusade.”

“Who are they?” Willet prodded mirthlessly.

“Don’t know!” Cross belched. “I ran out of there before I caught a glimpse of their faces; assholes were busy shooting at me. But I don’t think they were with our boys.” 

“Then they are of no concern.” growled the hombre; slamming the corpse’s skull again. “By the way you told that special serpent boy about the prophecy; stupid son of bitch!”

“I just wanted to rile him up!” Cross croaked against the tight grip of the necromancer’s gloved hand. “But I didn’t tell him about the book; and he wouldn’t even begin to know where to search for it! The original manuscript of the Popol Vuh disappeared a century ago! That stupid kid probably won’t even say shit to his brother!”

“They weren’t even supposed to know about that there ancient text in the first place Cross; or about the ascension!” Willet snapped. “Damn it I had to risk my place in the Circle to save your putrid behind because of your fuck ups!”

“I made a mistake, it won’t happen again sir!” SLAM! 

“Damn well it won’,” Willet snorted roughly releasing the corpse; who awkwardly tumbled to the ground. The hombre then carefully tugged at the cuffs of his black leather gloves; straightening his jacket like a gentlemen. “We need those boys alive; they’re vital to ma plans.” Willet clamped a threatening hand on Cross’s shoulder as he stood up; pointing at him. “I don’t give a turd in space if you wanna rip apart the whole damn countryside tonight but I need them Geckos breathing. We got too much at stake here now that you gone and blabbed.”

“Can’t I just make them suffer a little?” Cross whined with a simpering smirk; resembling a little kid pestering his father. “Torturing is not killing.”

“Believe me Maximillian…they’ll be plenty of time for them boys sufferin’; that is a promise.” Willet assured the corpse as they exited the elevator when it reached the basement section. “But for now I gotta correct this lil’ mishap seein’ as how you can’ seem to be trusted workin’ the sidelines.”

“What hell are you talking about?” Cross queried appallingly as he lumbered awkwardly next to the hombre down the basement corridor. “It’s not like I can’t handle this shit on my own. I’ve been building your army haven’t I?”

“And you’ve done it well Cross, but I feel it’s time you had an extra set of hands for this next phase.”

The corpse let out a bellowing sulk as they stalked down the hall of concrete walls and dark cemented floors; turning down another corner towards the main gate where the holding cells were kept. The long lights flickered between the pipes of the ceiling above them. Approaching the automatic doors where a black unfinished circle marked on the forehead of a drone culebra guard was standing; Willet quickly flashed his building pass, granting them access immediately.

All the metal doors on each side were seaweed green and numbered; rusting with patina since this quarter of City Hall hadn’t really been used in over a decade. It was however where the Circle was currently holding queen Amaru’s mortal vessel and her younger culebra sibling. Willet eagerly marched ahead towards the holding cell labeled #3; turning to his undead companion reeking of filth beside him.

“Wait here while I assess this matter personally.” The hombre specifically instructed Cross; whose hideous face read a choleric expression. “Your rancid stench might be a bit distractin’ for those kittens in there.”

Unhesitant Willet swiped his key-card through the detector; unlocking it, and stepping through the threshold. 

Flexing his gloved hands the old ranger took in the dreary conditions of the cell; soaking in the stale scent of metal, sweat and blood. It was cold with white cemented walls and grey pavement floors like the outside which added to the icy temperature. Water dripping from the pipes echoed in the background. A small divider for the shower and toilet fenced off the room in the corner. Turning his head to the right with a glimmer in his eye; Willet noticed the innocent face of a disoriented young woman no older than nineteen or twenty. She was sitting along the brown cemented bench against the wall next to an oriental young man about sixteen with spikey black hair wearing jeans, sneakers and a navy blue hoodie.

She was pretty yet pale despite the smudges of dirt and scrapes with dried blood from a recent accident on her porcelain complexion; matted, long brunet hair drooping like a veil over her eyes. Her street clothes were a little worse for wear as were the boy’s; consisting of a white sleeveless eyelet top which was now patched up with dirt clod marks, tattered skinny jeans and black laced combat boots. Around her neck she wore a silver cross; obviously the symbol of her faith and purity which had been tainted due to the demon queen’s recent possession five months ago. That lil’ trinket won’t be doin’ ya any good here, the hombre mused. 

Both of the young captives were also wearing shackles on their wrists and ankles encrypted with ancient symbols; depicting a spell the hombre concocted that would keep them both drained of energy if they’d dare try to escape. And that spell was almost nearly impenetrable; not even the devil himself could remove those restraints. 

“Good mornin’ ma lil’ kittens,” Willet’s gravelly voice chimed at the young prisoners; clasping his gloved hands together. “And how have we been restin’ today?” His eyes wandered at the scenery; gesticulating enthusiastically as he paced around the cell. “I know the conditions here are a little poorly tended but as you know…I caint very well have you two pissin’ off on us now can I?”

“What the fuck do you want dickwad?!” the boy snapped at the hombre under his disoriented haze.

“Oh he spits fire!” guffawed the necromancer in a sardonic tone; stroking his chin while shifting from one foot to the other. “That kinda energy should be puttin’ to a better use; and seein’ as how I’m such a generous man of ma stature I feel inclined to sanction ma invitation.”

“GO TO HELL!”

Willet only chortled in his throat devilishly at the captive boy. “Language son, you act as if I wanna harm either of you; that I take pleasure in it. I don’t.” he prattled vaguely, folding his arms over his chest. “That all bein’ said if it came between you and ma dearly desired plain of inhabitancy…I’d always choose the latter boy. It’s just how it is…” 

“Oh yah you’re such an upstanding guy,” snarled the adolescent boy. “Locking us in this shit hole and forcing us to listen to more of your fucked up insanity! Well you can shove it asshole because I’m not gonna ever work for you!”

The old necromancer could see this kid wasn’t going to be reasoned with that easily; igniting his attention to the doll-like girl sitting beside the feisty boy with her knees propped up to her chest. Approaching with the manner of a preying jackal; the ranger crouched down before the girl’s eye level observing the contours of her sweet face. 

“You stay the hell away from her!” warned the boy gritting his teeth; watching with disgust as the old hombre gently brushed some of her hair behind her ear. It only made the young man more venomous. “I swear to fucking god; when I get out of these I’m gonna tear your damn head off!”

“Unless you don’ want me to snap your sister’s pretty lil’ neck,” Willet cautioned the boy; turning to him with a dagger glare as he stroked the girl’s long locks. “I suggest you hatch up that there poisonous trap of yours young man; otherwise you’ll be haven’ a bad day, ya hear?”

The teenage boy’s dark eyes were blazing with fury; licking his lips then smacking the back of his head against the wall defeated. Willet’s slouched frame shook with amusement as he let out another throaty laugh. Who did he think he was dealing with? The old hombre was an ancient being spawned from the fiery pits of Xibalba with the power and strength of a god. He could take that undead boy apart with the divinity of his mind should he so desire. Most of his necromancy kin feared or worshiped Willet and those who dared to take him on ended up six feet under. Jerking his head back to the girl, the necromancer’s glare fixated on the glistened sheen of her pallid green eyes.

“You are a perdy lil’ darlin’ ain’ ya?” Willet gently cajoled; titling his head sideways at the girl. “Young and sweet with a will of iron; I can see why her majesty chose you to be her vessel.”

“She didn’t choose me…” came the girl’s stonily response; expression crestfallen. “I was shot dead at the blood well…and she saw an opportunity… I was just a convenience…”

“And is that how you’re feelin’ now? Dead on the inside?”

“Don’t answer him Kate!” angrily shouted the boy in the background. 

The girl swallowed hard; lifting her hollow gaze towards the hombre.

“You don’t feel anything.” She answered icily; face bilious. “You can’t feel anything…”

“Of course I do sweet-lips,” he demurred softly. “I feel a tremendous affection for ma home in Xibalba; for ma people.” His eyes began to glaze as he thought back to the moment of his exile from that glorious plain; it was like a piece of him had been ripped off. Quickly he rubbed away the wet substance from his eyes with his thumbs. “But I also love this place; love its air, its cushionin’ comforts and its hostility between each of the human races. Ma affection has extended beyond that of which I want to combine both our worlds as one. Caint you understand that?”

The young woman was silent taking in the hombre’s unusually heartfelt declaration; somber eyes almost searching for a hint of humanity within him. Steadying her voice into a more sympathetic tone; she dangled her legs over the ledge of the square-shaped cemented bench.

“If that’s how you feel…then why don’t you just go back to Xibalba? You have the amulet don’t you.” 

Willet smirked slyly at the girl; softly caressing her cheek with his leather gloved palm, emulating a caring father comforting his daughter. She flinched abruptly under the hombre’s tenderness; the boy next to her was seething with flaring nostrils like a bull etching to charge.

“You wanna know what I think you feel when I peer into that there solemn gaze of yours?” queried Willet; cupping the girl’s chin. “Shame and anguish over the queen’s merciless escapades.” He studied the designs of her irises; digging deeper into the window of her soul. “And you’re not fearin’ death these days ain’ ya girl? Since bein’ here you have refused to touch a single bite of your edible delights. You almost have me thinkin’ that you wanna die…or that you feel you deserve to die.” 

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” screamed the boy; harsh voice echoing throughout the cell. 

“It’s okay Scott, I’m fine,” the girl informed her captive companion; fighting to contain a certain composure as her anxiety kicked in. The necromancer could apparently see she was trembling like a leaf. “Let him say whatever he wants.”

The old hombre cleared his dry throat; tongue between his teeth as he exchanged a prideful smirk between both captives. Turning back to the doll-like girl his face softened with empathy.  
“It wasn’ your fault ya know…what Amaru did to you,” the hombre again tenderly brushed her brunet locks out of her eyes. His gravelly yet intelligent southern voice though fearsome was also uniquely soothing. “When that maniacal bitch took possession of your person…those people she slaughtered…it was all her girl. Believe me I know evil lookin’ it in the eyes; you ain’t no killer…not in your heart.”

The girl instantly glowered at the necromancer in the hat imperiously. 

“You’re wrong,” she hissed tears welling in her green eyes; shaking with disgust. “I am a killer. I took a life…a drifter.”

“Ah but it wasn’t actually you who plunged that there knife into the chest of that poor soul was it?” Willet affirmed cleverly; extending his finger in the direction of the boy. “Ma spirits are tellin’ me it was your own kin right there who happily obliged. Am I right son?”

On que the boy growled viciously; eyes shifting into his reptilian slit irises. Willet just threw his head back and cackled; stroking his chin. He’d obviously read his spirits correctly. When his laughter died down the necromancer turned his attention back to the young woman.

“Wanna know what else I am sensin’ bout you lil’ lady?” Willet persisted; folding his gloved hands together over his knees. “That you are in a bottomless pit of despair. There it is now, swimming around in your emerald saucers. Someone hurt you…somebody your heart deeply vies for…didn’t he Kate?” 

Without warning tears spilt down the girl’s cheeks; body shaking confoundedly while her breathing intensified. As Willet absorbed her overwhelming wave of pain his coal eyes trailed down to the healing bite mark on her right forearm. It was from a culebra; not the one she called her brother but another…someone she knew and trusted enough to allow them to feed from her blood. Instantly the necromancer’s lips poured a lopsided grin realizing this girl had a close relationship with a certain Gecko. Ah youngling love, he thought tilting his head staring at the little holes puncturing the young woman’s skin. Entranced as he was the old hombre instantly snatched the girl’s arm; startling her.

“Oh no doubt the boy who gave you this here love bite will be comin’ to save you,” Willet sneered; locking his intense gaze with the anguished young woman. “But them Geckos will fail because of the darkness brewin’ beneath that young Richard’s soul; that animal yearning to be released. And it starts the moment of your last breath; the moment that heart of his own flesh and blood stops beatin’. I take away all his light forever…and he gives into that shadow side.”

“Screw you!” the girl spat under more tears; lip trembling as Willet released her arm chuckling.

“STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER!” shrieked the boy again face scarlet red; cheeks bitterly puffing out. “I’M WARNING YOU!”

Calmly the necromancer in the ranger hat straightened up; snickering in his throat as he strolled over to crouch before the boy.  
“Sorry son, it ain’t her I’m after.” Suddenly the old hombre removed one of his gloves and bit down on his thumb drawing blood. Grabbing the boy’s jaw; Willet imprinted him with the Circulo Mortis symbol above his brow in blood. “Time to make use of that fiery spirit.”

“What are you doing to him?!” screamed the girl. “STOP IT!”

The teenage boy began wailing in agony; thrashing in his chains as the bloodletting symbol on his forehead began glowing bright red. The girl looked on in horror as the unfinished circle seared into her companion’s flesh. Cooling off it turned black and the pupil’s in the boy’s eyes vanished; just like the other culebra drones shambling about City Hall protecting the faction leaders. It was like he had become an emotionless empty shell.

“Scott?! Scott?!” the girl cried rattling the chain restraints; struggling to get to him. Watching as the boy’s head slumped over; her petrified glare fixated on the old hombre removing her companion’s shackles. “What’s wrong with him?!”

The necromancer laughed then coolly assured the overzealous girl. “Easy lil’ darlin’. Ain’ nothin’ goin’ to happen to your baby bro; just givin’ him the proper upgrade.” Locking eyes with the expressionless boy Willet smirked climbing to his feet. “Now you will leave this cell A.S.A.P and make the arrangements for the festival in the later evening with your new superior Cross. Is that understood son?”

The boy lifted his head up; emulating a robot responding. “Yes.”

“Good boy. And if anyone should try to prevent the ascension…you have the order to kill by any means necessary.” Willet paused midway into the sentence and added. “But do not kill Seth and Richie Gecko, even if they try to stop you do not kill them; is that understood?”

“Yes.” The boy replied nodding vacantly.

“Good…”

“You’re a monster!” snarled the girl to the old hombre.

“On the contrary Miss Fuller,” Willet demurred; popping another breath mint from his pocket into his mouth. “I am a very empathetic man. Oh and no worries sugar, your time be comin’ soon enough. You have yourself a splendid day now.”

Tipping his hat politely, the ranger necromancer and his new drone made haste exiting the cell. Glancing over his shoulder on the way out; Willet tossed the traumatized girl a coy smiled waving at her as she buried her tearful face in her palms.  
________________________________________

The Winchesters’ Impala... 

…Sunday, 3:45 am

Sam and Dean’s black 67’ Chevy cruised along the nightly highway following close behind the Gecko brothers’ 60s Mercury Cougar. An Reo Speedwagon tune was chiming through the speakers relaxing the older Winchester as he lightly strummed his fingers along the stirring wheel. It had been a couple hours since their abduction from the warehouse followed by the attack of the living dead back at the Sunset motel; to which point the Winchesters’ friendly neighbourhood angel arrived in the nick of time to save their bacon. Shortly after, one of the brothers’ captors Richie Gecko had made the suggestion of seeking refuge at a nearby compound somewhere in the outskirts of Albuquerque so they could collect their thoughts. 

Sure there was hostility still brewing between both sets of siblings giving how things started but at this point they had bigger issues to worry about; like necromancers and zombies along with serpent vampires. During the head-bunting session at the motel with Seth and Richie the Winchesters felt they got a pretty good idea as who these men were. Criminals and scumbags yes, but they also functioned on a certain code of conduct; evident in the way they’d chosen to protect Sam and Dean from the creatures rather than abandoning them to their fate and saving their own asses.

It was because of that tiny sentimental gesture that Dean felt compassionate enough to allow the Geckos to redeem themselves by temporarily joining forces with him, his brother and Castiel. And they certainly knew how to handle themselves regarding the supernatural what with one of them actually being a monster. Dean wasn’t looking to make friends or add new names to his Christmas card list; this was solely about the mission. It made Sam uncomfortable none the less. But Seth and Richie were connected to this case; just one piece of a large incomprehensible puzzle. And because of that fact they were all roped into the same boat together whether they liked it not. 

So with that in mind once they’d packed up what was left of their gear and syphoned the rest of the gas from Castiel’s crummy station wagon, the Winchesters and the Geckos hit the road for the compound. Luckily there were no more surprises as they left the motel. During the ride down Sam and Dean caught the angel up to speed with the details as they knew so far about the case; the Day of the Dead festival, what they’d learned about the Geckos, Cross, the necromancers etc. Later Sam dialed up his mother Mary Winchester and filled her in on the events as they took place; to his surprise she was more than persistent to be involved in their ventures.

“No mom we’re fine,” Sam answered sincerely into his cell; digging at the crusty sleep particles in his eyes as he sat in the passenger seat. “Yes I’ll tell Dean. Okay. We’ll text you the address when we get there.” He nodded coherently; glancing at his brother preoccupied on the windshield then at the expressionless angel sitting behind him. “Tell me about it. Yes we’ll get some shut eye too, promise. Alright you too; night.”

Sam clicked the phone off, shoving it into his coat pocket then Dean exchanged glances with him and the road. His face contorted disparagingly; releasing a miffed sigh shaking his head.

“Damn it dude, why’d you have to spring mom into all this crap?” the older Winchester scoffed; fixated on the tail lights of the cougar up ahead of him. “She’s already got enough on her plate as it is with the dicks from Hogwarts breathing down our necks; among other things.”

“Because she needed to know Dean,” Sam countered; scrutinizing his brother. “I couldn’t just lie to her, she’s our mother. And she could probably help us out; in case you didn’t realize our hands are sorta tied up with the Crazies out there looming around.”  
Dean shook his head; shooting Sam a grim expression.

“Which is specifically why we shouldn’t involve her Sammy,” he scolded. “We don’t even know what the hell we’re up against. Friggin zombies, necromancers, snake vampires, the Sopranos up ahead; mean take your pick of crap Sam because we’re sitting in a mixed bag of it.”

The younger Winchester brother frowned; face crestfallen looking out the passenger window at the trees whipping past as he counted the street lamps in his mind.

“I just thought mom could help. You know better than anyone that she can take care of herself.” Sam retorted; adam’s apple bobbing. In a split second his voice lowered becoming melancholy; riddling the other brother in the driver’s seat with guilt. “You should’ve heard her Dean; she sounded really worried about us.”

Dean’s face was somber wiping his nose; jawline twitching. “I know.” He waited briefly then patted the taller Winchester’s broad shoulder quickly; assuring him of a cease fire. “Hey I’m sorry I snapped back there Sam...I’m just…I’m on the friggin edge here alright man? Our lives have been one steady episode of Tales from the Crypt.”

“Well on the bright side…at least there’s never a dull moment.”

“Um guys,” Castiel’s raspy voice spontaneously interrupted the brothers. “Being sorta the third wheel in here, not that I don’t appreciate witnessing your family melodrama at times; but can we focus on the matter at hand?”

“What’s on your mind Cass?” Dean asked dryly; tongue rolling in his mouth as he focused on the back of Seth and Richie’s vehicle. “Please share with the class we’re all ears.”  
The impassive angel pointed at the taillights of cougar in the windshield. 

“How about we start with your new friends the Gecko brothers?”

Sam and Dean simultaneously threw each other screwed up facial expressions; pinching their lips at the angel’s cringeworthily query. They probably wouldn’t have used the word “friends” in the same sentence as “Gecko brothers”. Unlikely ally; maybe even an acquaintance of sorts but never anything so ludicrous as suggesting there was a smidge of a comradery between the Winchesters and the Geckos. 

*COUGH*  
“They’re not our friends,” Sam grumbled derisively; clearing his throat as he evaded the angel’s awkward gawks. “More like a partnership of convenience and even that’s being too generous.”

Dean sighed dourly in the driver’s seat; scratching at his stubble. 

“Ah Cass, you’re a pop-cultured nut now so I’ll give it to you silver screen style,” the older Winchester deadpanned. “You know Alien vs Predator right?” 

Sam fired a critical look at his brother; puckering his brow. “Really Dean? That movie sucked.”  
The older Winchester shot up his hand in front of his younger sibling’s face.

“Not important Sammy. Cass do you know it?”

The angel’s brow furrowed incomprehensively at the hunter.

“Yes Dean I’m familiar with that film’s title,” Castiel replied stonily with a bewildered expression; hovering between the Winchesters in the backseat. “But I don’t understand what a B grade cinematic piece of science fiction, about two intergalactic beings trying to kill each other, has to do with the two men who kidnapped you. Not unless…one of them is an alien.”

“What?! No Cass stay with me here buddy alright.” Dean blinked perplexingly; glancing at the angel in the rear-view mirror like couldn’t believe what came out of that response. Quickly he rolled his shoulders; settling himself back on topic of the analogy. “In the movie this chic teams up with Predator to gank the other douchey succubus aliens; they form a temporary alliance which is what this is. Sammy, you and I are the human chic,” he pointed at the car ahead of them, “and those clowns in there are Predator; get it?”

“I think I understand.” The angel squinted his blue doe-eyes dubiously; like he’d just spaced out. “So then…what I said earlier was correct. The enemy of my enemy is my friend.” 

Sam and Dean synchronously rolled their eyes; face-palming. Crap! They’d forgotten about that infamous line in the movie. But there was no sense arguing with the angel when he obviously understood the analogy. Still neither of the Winchesters was thrilled with the idea of being tied down to the two men who basically threatened, kidnapped and tried to kill them. Dealing with the Geckos however was a necessary evil.

Quickly Sam stirred the topic back on track; glancing at Castiel.

“Cass back at the motel, you mentioned that part of Richie’s soul was still human,” he queried; face puzzling anxiously. “What happened when you healed those guys anyway?”  
The statuesque angel calmly turned to the shaggy hunter with peculiar inscrutable expression; eyes searching intensely. 

“It is indescribable what I saw Sam,” Castiel admitted gruffly; shifting his attention back to the windshield squinting his blue eyes. “But when I touched the foreheads of those two men…I perceived things…felt their inseparable bond with one another. And I saw flashes of inexplicable images. It was like a supercomputer downloading my mind with all these encrypted ancient texts; writing I’ve recognized from somewhere.”

Dean’s eyebrows puckered suspiciously.

“Wait!” the hunter at the wheel cut in cynically; ushering the angel’s attention at the Gecko’s cougar. “Cass are you trying to tell us that Vincent and Jules over there got the friggin Da Vinci Code in em’?”

Castiel peculiarly titled his head unamused at Dean’s separate pop references. 

“Yes…more or less,” he responded dryly in his raspier but gentle baritone. “As I healed them both I saw what seemed to be antediluvian Mesoamerican language….and what looked like Mayan iconography.” Castiel paused briefly collecting his thoughts while the Winchesters’ faces were a mixture of bewilderment and inquisitiveness; then the angel resumed his assertion. “In Seth I identified the Mayan solar emblem for the sun or light. And Richard…his was obviously a lunar emblem for the moon or darkness. But this knowledge escapes me as I’ve never received ancient coding like that from a human or one who is an aberration.”

“Mayan? Like from Mesoamerican culture?” Sam perked up enthusiastically at the stoic angel. Dean on the other hand was completely perplexed. “Yah the pre-Columbian era, before Christ; I read about the El Castillo temple and those Aztec ruins in Mexico years ago. And Richie mentioned that he’s a culebra which is a vampire species of Mesoamerican lore; something we’ve never come across in any of our hunts.” 

“Hey whoa back up there Aristoteles,” Dean interjected gesturing; drawing his brows critically as he exchanged glances at his brother and the angel. “Can we dial down the nerd just a bit for us average citizens here?” he pointed to himself then continued. “What’s this El Castillo temple?”

Obviously Sam had to put the discussion into terms his brother was more familiar with. Not that Dean wasn’t intelligent; he was just riding on a totally different wave link most often when it came to the literary arts. They’d been Men of Letters for five years now and the older Winchester brother was still getting used to nosing through all the old books in their library back at the bunker. 

“Dean you know that horror film The Ruins; based on the book?” Sam offered; digging around the web on his phone for a picture of the ancient pyramids in Mexico. 

“You mean that crappy flick about those creepy vines coming out of people?” 

“Yah well those buildings in the movie were based on the Mesoamerican ruins in southeastern Mexico,” the younger Winchester brother showed Dean a quick glimpse of the old pyramid on his phone; immediately his face light up like he`d recognized the structure. “The first Maya cities developed around 750 BC and by 500 BC and these cities possessed monumental architecture like the ones depicted in The Ruins.”

Dean’s eye brow shot up incredulously.

“Okay so…what the hell does any of that crap have to do with the GQ douche bags in front of us?”

“Cass was saying he saw similar ancient texts and symbols associated with that culture when he healed Seth and Richie.” Sam concluded, tucking his phone back into his pocket; his face still puzzling over this startling revelation surrounding the Gecko brothers as he turned back to Castiel. “I don’t get it, why would you see something like that inside a couple of common crooks?”  
The pensive angel’s expression hardened switching between the car in front of the impala and the two hunters. 

“Honestly I haven’t the slightest idea,” Castiel admitted dourly; sighing. “What I do know is that these Gecko brothers’ souls are branded in such a way that suggests their existence is of divine importance. They might even be unaware that they have an essential destiny in this world judging by their miscreant trade of criminality.” 

Sam and Dean Winchester exchanged grimaces. The idea of their kidnappers being destined for anything either than jail time seemed absurd especially since neither of the Geckos were apologetic about their certain lifestyle.

“I guess that does make sense,” affirmed the younger Winchester; putting his hand to his mouth like Atlas then glancing at his brother and the angel. “Lenny mentioned that this necromancer ranger had big plans for the Geckos. Do you think there’s connection?”

Castiel’s mild expression dimmed into suspicion.

“It’s a possibility. As I said the information I obtained from Seth and Richard is of immense significance.” 

“What about cobra-breath?” Dean tossed in. “You said he has long-pig in him.”

“Yah what did you mean by that anyway Cass?” Sam added; forehead ceasing while leaning back to the angel.

“Richard’s abnormality within his soul is as intriguing to me as it is foreboding.” Castiel replied the Winchesters solemnly; deep textured voice placid but precautious. “His aberrant kind, culebras, from my understanding they are immortal beings solely predatory and bloodthirsty as the vampires you’ve both faced in the past. However to my knowledge of culebras based on what I received from Richard, their ancient brethren are enriched with intellectual culture; and they have a hierarchy.” 

Dean winced; furrowing his eyebrows at the angel in the rear-view mirror.

“A hierarchy? You mean these things have different statuses; like royalty?”

The bleak expressional angel nodded at the inquiring hunter.

“Yes Dean and what astounds me about culebras is that they govern their people on a similar function to that of angels,” Castiel persisted notably; head ticking. “Which is why Richard’s condition is purely astronomical; he possesses part of a human soul so he may be even more powerful than those of his own kind, demons and certain angels. This also indicates to me that he may not be condemned to purgatory.” 

“Great,” Dean scoffed irritably; as he turned the car around the corner just as the cougar ahead. “Another race of super-powered dicks Sammy; must be our lucky day.”  
Sam disregarded his brother’s derisive tone; peering inceptively at the angel. “So you’re saying Richie is the pariah of his species?”  
Castiel nodded at the shaggy hunter sedately. 

“How is that possible?”

“I’m as baffled as you are Sam…but Richard has human emotions and feelings conflicting with the usual inscrutable culebra side he retains.” The angle paused briefly; his wise doleful blue eyes glistening. “And I also sense that young man is at war with himself; more so than his brother Seth. There’s a lot of pain and darkness residing deep within him. I can only imagine the extent of his suffering; the loneliness he must endure on a daily basis because of this anomaly.”

At this the Winchesters were stunned into silence as they exchanged meaningful glances. Never did they expect to feel empathetic as they did in that moment for the Gecko brothers. Sam and Dean’s first impression from those two a while ago was violent, impetuous, and even condescending. Yet there was a tiny hint of sincerity between those criminal siblings that the Winchesters identified with in their brief minutes of affection; like the way Seth calmed Richie down. It was very apparent that the Geckos shared a profound bond with one another; no different than Sam and Dean. 

And if anyone could relate to wrestling with their inner demons, pain or darkness it was the Winchesters. Dean recalled his time under the influence of the Mark of Cain and what The First Blade nearly did to his soul; that insatiable urge to kill, the lives he took after becoming a demon. No matter how hard Dean fought to suppress those memories they still persisted to haunt him. Sam never really got over his ordeal with Gadreel taking possession of his body to save him; the price of it ended up being Kevin Tran’s life. And the guilt of that weighed on Sam every day. The Winchesters experienced enough personal traumas to last a century; they didn’t want to admit it but they were very closely on par with Seth and Richie.

Maybe there was a whole other side to those heathens. Sam and Dean certainly caught glimpses of their humanity in the short time they’d known them; evident when the Gecko brothers protected the Winchesters from being eaten by the zombie horde. Leaving the motel they were skeptical and apprehensive of their alliance with Seth and Richie; but after listening to Castiel’s description of what he saw while healing them, Sam and Dean found themselves feeling sympathetic and curious. But it was going to take a heck of a lot of effort for the Geckos win over the Winchesters’ trust; they needed to really prove themselves while working together.

Castiel took notice of the brothers lost in their thoughts, proceeding to dig through the pockets of his trench coat. Dean observed this.

“Cass what are you doing?”

Unexpectedly the emotionless angel pulled out an MP3 player attached to a pair of earplugs. 

“I can sense this is usually the time where the two of you like to be alone when you wanna have a heartfelt discussion,” the angel replied nonchalantly; untangling the wire of his plugs before sticking them in his ears. “Don’t mind me; just pretend I’m not even here.”

Sam and Dean quickly shot each other flabbergasted expressions; puckering their brows watching the angel awkwardly curl up on the backseat with his mp3 player. He looked like a preoccupied 10 year old with his legs comfortably propped up on the seat, surfing the device until he found a song to his liking. Seeing their usually serious celestial friend so hip with the times these days was amusing for the Winchesters. 

Snickering silently; Sam and Dean’s tone then quickly shifted to a more brooding exterior as they realized they had a moment alone.

“So…” Sam started then trailed off; downcast.

“Yah,” Dean replied dourly; blinking prudently at the windshield.

“This case certainly took a different direction,” the shaggy hunter imputed; chortling mirthlessly. “It started with Garth’s call about a mutilated security guard and necromancers. We got held at gunpoint and then kidnapped by the Gangster Squad whom one is a friggin monster slash partially human species, only for them to save our asses until Cass showed up while the motel went Zombieland. We’re also ironically now working with these guys. Oh and according to Cass these same misunderstood felons might actually be important figures depicted in an ancient Mayan text.”

Dean’s forehead creased; clenching his jaw as he glanced at his brother.

“Wow, that’s one hell of a sum up Sammy,” he retorted widening his green eyes, blowing out his checks and shaking his head; shifting the positions of his hands on the stirring wheel. “I’m still trying to grapple with the fact that there’s another species of vamps out there other than the ones we’ve ganked previously. Never thought I’d hear myself saying that let alone actually working with one of these sons of bitches.”

Silence initiated briefly between the Winchesters, and then Sam asked mildly.

“You think they know Dean?”

“About the crap Cass saw in em’?”

“Yah.”

The older Winchester shrugged with an idle facial expression. “I don’t know…maybe.”

Sam chewed on his bottom lip, tugging at the waistline of his blue cargo jacket. “Do you think we should tell them?” he queried at his brother; face empathetic. “I mean technically…Seth and Richie have a right to know. And I don’t feel right about keeping something this crucial from them.” 

Dean let out a miffed sigh and responded somberly. “Honestly I hate getting in the middle of this kind of crap but we’ve got bigger things to worry about Sammy.” His gruff voice was uncertain as he scratched the stubble on his neck. “We’ll tell them once we get this case sorted.”  
________________________________________

The Geckos’ Cougar... 

…Sunday, 4:00 am

Night was fading fast giving way for the pink and bright purple billows in the sky as the sun commenced along the horizon. Seth Gecko was dozing in the passenger seat while Richie took control of the stirring wheel; he figured knowing the way to the compound why not, besides his mortal brother was exhausted though he probably shouldn’t have been driving at that hour what with daylight approaching. It did at least give the vampire a few moments to be alone with his perspective. 

What a night. Zombies, necromancers, angels and a monster hunting duo; the Geckos didn’t think their search for the Fullers would turn out quite like this. Yet there they were with traveling under an unlikely alliance with the very people they’d just threatened to harm, heading for sanctuary to possibly discuss their next course of action regarding Cross and the people who took the Fullers. Among this turn of events Richie’s mind started drifting to things he couldn’t confide in with Seth; from Cross’s incessant ramblings about a prophecy to Castiel’s announcement of his partially human soul and especially the horrors he endured while imprisoned in Xibalba. 

Those were memories he couldn’t avoid even if he wanted.

Five months since that nightmare but for Richie it was still excessively daunting. For the young culebra it was a year; a year of boundless torture, fighting to stay alive and starvation. He still evoked the tools used to afflict him with unbearable pain; the scent of burning flesh searing off parts of his body. Cavern corridors and hallways bursting with bloodcurdling echoes of Richie screaming in agony. One specific weapon used most often deemed the Blade of Torment which forced Richie to relive excruciating memories and past sins. The deeper that blade was lodged into his body the more insufferable it was. If the vampire closed his eyes long enough he could still visualize the crimson cavern-like walls of the cells and chambers; the cold black chains around his neck, wrists and ankles chafing his skin. 

The atmosphere in Xibalba could be stifling hot one minute then minus forty degrees in temperature and smelt of rotting corpses; sometimes he wasn’t even permitted to wear any clothing. And it was endless darkness surrounded in a river of blood. On durable days Richie was descended into The Pit; an Underworld colosseum where he was compelled to fight to the death with Xibalban monsters and warriors until his body gave out. However the purpose of Richie’s imprisonment within the hell dimension was to break him; rip away every last shred of his goodness, humanity, hope, sanity even strip him of his memories on earth until there was nothing left but the animal. For a while that place had succeeded; Richie had become something barely recognizable by the time Seth and the Peacekeeper found him. 

Part of Richie consistently wished that neither his brother nor Kate had seen him like that and just put him out of his misery; but the other was obviously relieved Seth had come for him. Ironically though the vampire developed an epiphany that he’d deserved all his punishments in Xibalba; deserved to suffer for hurting so many, which was exactly why he couldn’t bring himself to feed on anyone after returning to earth. Something Richie didn’t care to share with Seth; unable to bear to burdening him with that crap. 

As the culebra sat wistfully in front of the stirring wheel, a song came on the radio overwhelming him with flashbacks; ‘Better Love’ by Hozier. It was the very song playing in the background that night he was with Kate at the carnival in Texas; her soulful green eyes staring longingly into his, hair matted and wet from the rain, his hand held by Kate against her cheek until she pulled him into her lips; he shut his glinted blue eyes tightly. He just wanted to get her back so badly; tell her the truth… 

An influx of lamented emotions took hold of Richie causing his cheeks to throb aguishly, reminiscing back to that ill-fated moment those eight letters pieced his ears for the first time; “I love you”. He almost didn’t see the headlights of a semi-truck coming straight at him; honking its horn frantically, jolting Seth out of his sleep. Richie fortunately managed to serve the cougar out of the way just in time to avoid an accident.

“What the fuck?!” Seth exclaimed panic-stricken; fumbling all over his seat as the car jerked. Regaining himself; a bitter line drew across the older Gecko brother’s forehead as he scowled at his preternatural sibling. “Hey you stupid shit, don’t you know how to drive?!”

Richie immediately shook off the adrenaline of the near-fated collision and flashed his brother a derisive glare.

“Really? This coming from the guy who didn’t get his driver’s licence until after high school?” deadpanned the vampire hollowly.

“I got them when I was eighteen Richard!” Seth barked exasperatingly; rubbing his face with his palm after switching off the radio. “And for the record driving made me nervous back then; all those fucking accident films they made you watch.”

“You did not get them at eighteen.” Richie demurred smugly; shaking his head.

“Yes I did!”

“No you didn’t.”

Seth was unamused grouchily scoffing back at the culebra. “For the last time, yes I did asshole.”

Richie’s eye flung wide; shooting his mortal sibling an insolent facial exterior. He wasn’t having any of it.

“Seth you got them three weeks shy of your nineteenth birthday. Uncle Eddie had to practically twist your arm to get them,” argued Richie sharply; furrowing his brows dismissively. “I would know; I was fucking there you idiot.”

“Whatever.” grumbled the older Gecko brother in a sulking tone; evading Richie’s eyes for the window beside him.

Richie promptly recognized this body language. Seth usually did this whenever he pouted or was upset with him. The vampire guessed the latter since after leaving the motel and before dozing off his mortal sibling had been giving him the silent treatment.

“The hell’s your problem anyway?” Richie nuanced patronizingly; exchanging gawks between his brother and the windshield.

“You are little shit,” snapped the older Gecko brother; glaring venomously at the vampire. “You’re my problem.” 

“What the fuck did I do to piss you off now?”

At this Seth’s aggravated taut dark eyes instantly seared through Richie’s pale complexion.

“Richard I just spent the entire night nearly getting killed. I smell like ass. My once structured reality shifted into some god damn Outer Limits bullshit; vampires, walking corpses, celestial beings, crack-pot monster hunters, everything but the fucking kitchen sink.” Seth frustrated paused mid-way through his rant; running his hands down his face and raking his fingers through his dark hair. “On top of which you lied to me.”

Richie was mystified; scrunching his face. “About what?!”

“You held out on me! Why didn’t you tell me about this other compound?” Seth barked glowering at his preternatural sibling behind the wheel. “All that time we were squatting in the shithole from hell and you didn’t say a damn word?!” 

The vampire anxiously scratched his eyebrow formulating an excuse as he glanced over at Seth; the urge to gibe tugging at his lips. At least his brother hadn’t suspected the other lie Richie was purposely concealing about his confrontation with Cross.

“Sorry brother, it just never came up,” he shrugged his shoulders apathetically. “We were kinda preoccupied trying to get Kate and Scott back from the assholes who took them. Besides…you never asked me what I did with my cut of our stash while we worked as Collectors.”

Seth icily grimaced at Richie, folding his arms over his chest; twisting his lips.

“So it just slipped your mind,” the older Gecko brother’s face was full of ire. “Is that right Richard?”

“I was going to tell you I just… I never got around to it.” The stonily toned culebra’s jaw twitched frustrated. “We were dealing with the fucking end of the world, Amaru and…Xibalba…” Seth abashed in his seat at the very mention of that that place. “My hands were kinda tied.”

Seth shook his head discontentedly; scolding at his brother. “Yah among other things huh?” 

Richie scrunched his face sourly; shaking his head. “You’re seriously bitching at me right now over a piece of fucking property?!”

“This isn’t about the compound Richard, it’s about trust.” The older Gecko brother substantiated rancorously; motioning at his younger sibling. “Trust is something you and I are supposed to value in this family; I thought we had an understanding of that.” When the culebra peered back at Seth, his face was etched in dolefulness. “How the hell can I rely on you if you don’t trust me?”

“I do trust you, don’t be a moron!” Richie countered sardonically. 

But Seth wasn’t buying it. “Really, then ah why the hell do we keep dancing in circles like this Richie?” he scolded; throwing up his hands incredulously. “Every time I turn around, there you are with another damn secret up your sleeve.”

The culebra resented that hypocritical statement. “Oh like the secret you kept from me about killing my dog; which you waited a fucking lifetime to tell me about later?” 

“Hey I felt guilty over what dad forced me to do to Peaches.” Seth counteracted; pinching between his brows. “It was fucked up; so don’t you dare lecture me about that Richard.”

Richie probably should’ve known better than to throw that piece of traumatizing history in his brother’s face; knowing full well how much it still affected him. Ray Gecko had done plenty of depraved things to the boys while they were growing up; forcing Seth to put down Richie’s rabid dog had to one of his many heinous abusive tactics. It was no wonder the brothers were so screwed up as adults; what with all the garbage they carried around with them. Still the culebra was too proud to admit when he’d crossed the line.

On que the Richie’s brows knitted saucily at his older sibling; gesturing at the wheel.

“You really wanna keep arguing about this shit when we’re in the middle of nowhere?”

“I want you to stop fucking lying to me Richard.” Seth muttered chagrined; gaze seething into his brother. The culebra understood this all too well, it was one of Seth’s biggest pet peeves. With all the things they’d kept from one another the older Gecko brother had reached his limit; no more surprises for him. Swallowing hard, Richie thought about the latest lie wedged between them; if his brother was this worked up about a place he secretly obtained, he could only imagine Seth’s reaction if he ever learned about that conversation with Cross. “There’s already too much shit between us as it is; shit we have yet to sift through. I’m just so god damn exhausted with it all.”

Richie let out a miffed sigh; shutting his dole eyes briefly then exchanging inscrutable glances at the road and his mortal sibling. 

“You’re right,” the vampire acquiesced nodding; gripping the stirring wheel tighter. He was gonna hate himself even more after this next concoction of bullshit. “We should keep everything out in the open.”

“Good,” Seth was sufficed; voice cooling of annoyance. “Now is there anything else you wanna tell me; anything you wanna get off your chest while we cruise along the highways?”

The vampire shook his head.

“Nope.” Richie assured Seth dryly. Damn it now that lie really hurt. “Just that I got a compound you didn’t know about.”

Seth nodded skeptically cocking his eyebrow at the vampire, putting his fist to his mouth inquisitively; prompting to change topics.

“They still following us?” the older Gecko brother referred to their new accomplices the Winchesters.  
Richie subtly checked the rearview mirror; the black impala’s headlights were closely tailing behind them. Squinting his eyes he could see all three apparent figures seated inside the vehicle.

“Yep.”

“Angels; Jesus, can’t believe this shit!” Seth bellowed; anxiously rubbing his stubble face. “If this is someone’s twisted idea of irony it ain’t fucking hilarious.”

“Well like the lumberjack twins told us, Big Foot’s a hoax.” Richie deadpanned; firing his brother a lopsided smirk.  
Seth gawked at the vampire with an are-you-serious line creasing across his forehead.

“You think this is funny?” he scoffed ominously. “Richard we almost got our asses smite by one of the good lord’s feather dusters.”  
The culebra puckered his eyebrows; pursing his lips.

“Yah but common,” he playfully clapped Seth’s shoulder; shooting him a clever grin. “Don’t tell me you’re not curious to see what it’s like arm-wrestling with the guy. I know I am.”  
Seth raised a brow dismissively. “Richie he’s a celestial being I’m pretty sure he’d Over the Top your ass regardless of your snake mojo.”

“Still would be a hell of a match up though brother.” Interjected the vampire; smirking slyly as he turned the wheel. However thinking about Castiel began to dampen Richie’s demeanor into a more brooding exterior. Was it right being in the presence of an actual angel when he and Seth weren’t exactly religious people nor morally sound? “Hey ah…not to sound melodramatic or anything but…didn’t meeting Captain Feathers back there kinda…I don’t know, inspire church Sundays?”

The older Gecko brother slowly spun around, scrutinizing at Richie like he just heard something completely ludicrous. 

“Why? We’re already traveling around with a couple of bible-thumping kids; it doesn’t get more religious than that,” he scoffed; yawning and stretching his arms. “Besides you know our family wasn’t big on that shit.”

“Mom was,” Richie divulged composedly; focused on the road. “Her family was Irish Catholic; she used to wear this big cross on her neck around the house. I remember she used to take us to that church back in Kansas City on Sundays when we were about five and six.” The culebra let out a mirthful sigh. “I guess it didn’t seem to matter anymore after she left.” 

Seth’s mouth twisted rancorously; exhaling. “Ah figures. Mom wasn’t exactly Florence Henderson.” He shot Richie a suspicious expression. “What’s with the sudden urge to find God anyway?”

Richie rubbed his nose shrugging nonchalantly. “No I just…I was wondering about it that’s all; thought maybe we could try it out sometime.”

The older Gecko brother rolled his eyes; unscrewing his jaw apathetically. 

“What do ya want Richard huh?” Seth deadpanned. “You want us to start spilling our guts out to the local padre in St. Francis on weekends? Who the hell’s putting this shit in your head; is it Clarence…or someone else?”

Richie hung his head despondently; letting out a harsh breath. Truth was this had been lingering on his mind for quite some time; even before the culebra knew angels existed. Ever since he’d met Kate Fuller and she took his hand to pray with him in that RV, Richie started to discreetly discern about where his life had been heading with Seth. And it all came to a head after his timorous experience in Xibalba. It was something he couldn’t find the words to talk about in the presence of his brother.

“Never mind, just forget it.” Richie aabnegated pessimistically; scratching at his hair. “It’s not a big deal.” 

Seth let out a loud sigh, and then his facial expression deepened. Something had been nagging him ever since they’d left the motel. Castiel told Richie he was part human. What the hell did that mean? From Seth’s understanding of culebra lore once you were turned you’d lose parts of yourself over time, including your humanity; and he was pretty certain snakes didn’t harbor a soul while they consumed souls through the blood of their victims. But Richie was different; prior to his transformation into one of the undead he’d retained who he was glasses and all including part of his human soul. There had to be a reason for it but what?

“Hey about what Clarence said back there,” Seth started solemnly glancing at his preternatural sibling. “About your soul being partially human…whatever the hell that means; what do you think he meant by that?”

The vampire blew out his cheeks dubiously. He’d been obsessing over that revelation himself ever since the bomb dropped.

“Your guess is as good as mine brother,” Richie stoically responded; shrugging and pinching his lips. “I was different before I turned and now I’m the defective of the culebra race according to Casablanca with wings.” He shook his head dully. “I thought I had all the answers on this shit but apparently I don’t.”

Seth’s precautious eyes began to wander. “Have you or…any of the other snakes ever run something like this?”

Richie furrowed his brow perplexingly; squinting his blue eyes through his glasses at his older sibling. 

“No Seth, none of this shit has ever happened,” the vampire retorted cynically. “When you turn into a culebra there is no in-between. Yet here I am a walking contradiction to the rules.”  
Seth’s face softened, pursing his lips as he reached over to gently slap his brother on the shoulder. “Hey don’t sweat it buddy alright,” his voice empathetic. “We’ll figure this thing out together just like we always do. And who knows maybe the Scooby gang back there can shed some light on this shit.”

Richie scrutinized Seth; creasing his forehead. “You really think Rocky and Bullwinkle in the 67’ Chevy is just gonna be so eager to help us out, after what we did to them?”

Seth assertively looked away from the culebra; staring at his refection in the side window stroking his chin. It was true, those Winchester boys had no reason to trust the Geckos; why should they after being kidnapped, held at gunpoint and nearly getting killed? Still there was something about them that Seth and Richie couldn’t help but secretly admire; their iron will and their devotion to one another. Sam and Dean also seemed to share their passion for cinema what with all those pop culture references being thrown around; which was something the Geckos could appreciate. Even their extracurricular activity for hunting monsters was intriguing. 

The Geckos could easily see themselves in Sam and Dean. Ironically these Winchesters were Seth and Richie’s dual opposites; two sides of the same soul. They were more alike than they were different. And based on the battle of wits back at Sunset, the Gecko brothers could tell Sam and Dean possessed a similar cutting edge attitude; especially that bravado, even if it was more watered down. If they weren’t on uncommon sides of the spectrum, the Winchesters and the Geckos probably would’ve ended up becoming friends in the long run; the best Seth and Richie could hope for was a solid alliance. Sam and Dean might’ve been compassionate people but it was going to take more than protecting them from zombies to gain those boys’ trust.

“Ah bravado jumped in the line of fire when Clarence went AWOL.” Seth encouraged, half shrugging. “And they did allow us to join their little Monster Mash. My gut tells me we can trust these guys; even if they’re PC pansies.”

Richie chortled mirthlessly; ticking his head. “Well long as they don’t try to kill me and help us find Kate and Scott, we’re five by five brother.” 

An awkward silence briefly settled in until Seth spontaneously jumped in with heavier topic. The older Gecko brother didn’t want to upset his preternatural sibling knowing full well how Richie felt about this specific person yet he couldn’t ignore the possibility given what happened last time.

“Listen Richard…I know you might not want to hear this,” he began dolefully picking at the dust in his eyes; face crestfallen. “But what if Kate’s”-

“She’s not.” The vampire quickly cut him off with taut eyes. “She’s alive; they both are.”

Seth licked his lips tensely.

“How do you know?” the older Gecko brother prodded bleakly. “These maggot infested assholes aren’t exactly in the prime of sparing lives here.”

Richie shut back the anguish glistening in his eyes; swallowing hard as he fixated on the windshield of the cougar. There was no way he’d even allow his mind to go there; not again. The vampire already had to watch Kate die in front of him once and even that was traumatizing enough. He knew she was alive; everything inside screamed at him she that she was alive.

“Because I would feel it,” Richie retorted grimly; setting his jaw. “If Kate was dead I’d know.”

Seth downcast his eyes and pressed his palm against his forehead.

“How? Richard it’s not like you have this psychic connection with her.”

Richie’s eyes narrowed; firing an inscrutable look at Seth before focusing on turning the wheel.

“I can’t explain it Seth…I’d just know,” affirmed the culebra docilely. “When it comes to you and Kate…I feel like there’s this invisible tether connecting me to both of you. If either one of you were hurt or otherwise…I would know; and it’s not something that I can just turn off.” 

Seth’s brown eyes glistened softly; touched by Richie’s abrupt heartfelt confession. It was no secret the Geckos shared a sacred bond; they’d said it for years. At times their co-dependency of each other almost felt unhealthy given the crummy conditions they’d grown up in; but Seth wasn’t used to hearing Richie be so openly passionate about their relationship. He was usually a closed book. It was a rare moment when the vampire would tear off a bit of that armor and let his mortal brother in. Seth didn’t feel he needed to say anything more after that. He was just content knowing Richie had his back; something they both cherished profoundly.

Lost in the moment Seth hadn’t realized that Richie was in the midst of driving into the compound lot.

“We’re here brother.” The vampire ticketed petulantly; turning off the ignition.  
________________________________________

Seth and Richie’s 2nd Compound 

Simultaneously like clockwork, the Winchesters and Geckos vehicles arrived at their destination; pulling up on the side of the structure. To Seth’s surprise it was almost an exact duplicate of the compound in San Antonio; at least on the outside. A rectangular 2-level building, wavy beige tin exterior, large garage on the front meant for bigger trucks, surrounded by overgrown trees and shrubs; with a dirt parking lot. Sam and Dean worried it resembled more like a warehouse for smuggling narcotics; hopefully this felon duo wasn’t into that. Exiting the impala and the cougar; Castiel and the two sets of brothers made their way to one another before proceeding to enter the compound. 

The air was dry and hot as the sun began to rise; in the distance they could hear the horns of a train whistling past. Richie didn’t want to be outside any longer than he had to for fear of turning to a crisp; he could already feel the burning sensation settling in. Seth stretched his arms and legs as did Sam, Castiel was curiously observant stumbling about the area but Dean on the other hand had a bone to pick with the vampire after nearly avoiding that accident on the highway.

“Hey Evil Knievel where the hell’d you get your license?” Dean barked gruffly as a bitter straight line formed above his brow; puffing out his cheeks storming towards Richie. “Your nodding off back there could’ve friggin killed us!”

“Dean, come on.” Sam groaned; attempting to pull his brother back. “Don’t do this.”

Richie glared at the bravado hunter derisively; with dagger-like blue eyes. “Give me a break that truck came out of fucking nowhere!”

Dean blinked perplexedly; unable to believe what he just heard. “Give you a break?” he sneered; face quickly darkening. “Oh I’ll give you a break you little punk.”

“Bring it on bitch!” The vampire jeered; taunting the hunter.

Seth was exhausted enough from all the squabbling; jumping in between Dean and his brother before round two of Geckos vs Winchesters commenced, shooting his hands up in front of the hunter.

“Cool it bravado I already gave him the tongue lashing for the night,” he sputtered vigorously. Then he ushered everyone’s attention at Castiel. “Besides you already got the Energizer Bunny over there to fix up your scrapes.”

Spinning around after examining his isolated surroundings; the stolid angel threw Seth a dry response. 

“I would hardly describe myself as a pink, floppy eared rodent who endlessly pounds on a drum.” Castiel paused when he noticed all four faces slack-jawed at him. Quickly the angel’s raspy voice hardened as he calmly approached the young tattoo suited man; inclining his head attentively. “I’m not some battery or tool you can just use to solve your human problems. I’m a celestial warrior of heaven.”

Seth gulped, subtly found himself backpedaling cautiously from the angel; remembering how lethal he was back at the motel with the zombies and later when he threatened to kill him and Richie for kidnapping Sam and Dean. He didn’t want to risk making anymore waves with the guy.

“Duly noted there Clarence,” Seth muttered nervously; exchanging looks between Castiel stoic complexion and the Winchesters. “Hey is he always this sensitive?”  
At this the two hunters traded wide-eyed looks; pinching their lips firmly together.

“Oh trust me hotshot,” Dean simpered darkly; basking in Seth’s apprehensiveness of the angel. “You haven’t seen him on his bad days yet.”  
The taller hunter sighed rolling his eyes.

“Look it’s been a long day, everyone’s tired,” Sam proclaimed solemnly; trading obstinate looks with Dean, Castiel and the Geckos. “So for now can we all just bury our crap and head inside where we can think?”

“Yah I’d prefer to get my ass out of the sun before I start sizzling.” Richie divulged sardonically; shielding his palm above his eyes to create shade. “Unlike you four I can’t actually get a tan anymore.”

“Did you ever?” Dean deadpanned at the vampire.

Richie’s cheeks throbbed glaring disparagingly at the hunter; gibing. “Look who’s talking Johnny Bravo.”

“Alright, shut the fuck up you two!” Seth bellowed; shuffling towards the entrance of the compound. Teamwork plainly wasn’t Richie or Dean’s strongest suit based on how easily they railed each other up; it was like watching the beginning of a dog fight. “Can we stop standing around here like a damn Ringling Circus of idiots and take it inside where we can clean this shit off?”  
Dean shook his head unfavorably at the tattoo suit.

“Dude seriously,” the bravado hunter scrunched his face up at Seth; following him to the entrance along with Richie, Sam and Castiel. “We gotta talk about that foul mouth of yours.”  
Seth glanced rancorously at Dean; shaking his head. He was getting a little weary of the bravado’s pc old man antics.

“Yah, yah keep your hair on gramps,” the older Gecko brother retorted brazenly at a dismayed Dean; turning to Richie. “You got the code for this thing or what?”

The vampire tossed his mortal sibling a cheeky grin; tapping his head. “Got it right here brother.” Then Richie advanced to punch in the digits on the outside key pad.  
Door swung open to pitch blackness. Seth instantaneously reached alongside the wall; searching for a switch. Succeeding he snapped it on and the ceiling lights flickered overhead. Searching discreetly, the five men slowly wandered through the metal threshold; pulling out their artillery. 

Seth shrugged nodding approvingly; dark eyes scanning. “Ah, least the power works.” 

“Doesn’t seem like anyone’s home either.” Sam pipped from behind the Geckos next to his brother; eyes browsing the corridor of the entrance.

“Yah well there wouldn’t be Fezzik,” Richie soughed; rolling his eyes at the tall hunter. “I bought this place eight months ago in case of an emergency. Only I have the code to get in.”

Dean let out breath of sarcasm at the culebra. “Bonus; would you like a stuff bear?”

Richie glowered at the hunter over his shoulder; shaking his head.

“Wait,” Castiel sedately halted the group as he lumbered before them. Gently putting his hand on the vampire’s shoulder; his blue doe-eyes assiduously scanned the unoccupied space. “I’m not sensing anything out of the ordinary here. We’re alone.” The angel then spun around absently to the Geckos and Winchesters; face devoid of emotion. “So you can put your guns away now.”

Exchanging puckered-forehead gawks, the two sets of siblings hid away their weapons behind their jackets and pursued the angel through the hallway; into the main foyer of the compound. It was a wide open area where the kitchen and living room mended into one quarter with grey dry walls boxing everything in; a long granite marble island divided the room. Above them was a ceiling of dark pipes and hanging lamps shaped like footballs.

“Can he just do that whenever the hell he wants?” Seth inquired at Dean referring to Castiel as they shuffled towards the island; expression beguiled. “Anywhere and anytime?”  
The hunter shrugged passively. “If the place isn’t angel-proof; yah.”

“So what else can Inspector Gadget here do?” Richie chimed saucily in a mechanical tone; crossing his arms at Castiel. “I mean besides the mind-reading, healing tricks and Electro shit?”  
Dean opened his mouth advancing a response when the angel beat him to it.

“As a seraph I possess an assortment of abilities beyond your capacity but I do have my limits,” Castiel bleakly proclaimed; exchanging attentive glances between the Geckos and the Winchesters. “To list them all down and describe how they work would just overwhelm you. And besides, I’m not really in the mood for sharing with miscreants.”

“Uh huh; but I gotta say though I’m a little disappointed Clarence,” Seth jeered dismissively; gesticulating at Castiel’s wardrobe. “I thought angels had wings and all that shit but you look like you just walked out of Barney’s. What happen, the big man upstairs demote you to sales associate?”

The angel’s brow furrowed incomprehensively at the young man; tugging the front of his trench coat.

“This is merely a vessel,” Castiel grouchily confessed; receiving slack-jawed expressions from the Gecko brothers. “Revealing my true form or even my real voice would just be atomically fatal for you.”

“How?” Richie prodded; screwing up his face.

“It can cause deaf and blindness.” Sam interjected impassively. 

“Followed by death.” Dean added grimly.

“Angels are entities of intense light and high pitched frequencies,” the taller hunter explained to the dumbfounded criminal brothers. “So they take possession of a human body while on earth.”

“If you were to lay eyes on my natural visage; they would burn out of their sockets.” Castiel affirmed dourly in his gruff but calm composure; indignant gaze carefully observing Richie. “No human or demon has ever survived an encounter with an angel outside of its vessel. I would imagine the same fate for culebras as well.”

The Gecko brothers were ecstatic with bewilderment; cocking their eyebrows at the angel and the Winchesters. 

“Hold on back the fuck up!” Seth barked incredulously at Castiel; touching both sides of his temple like a headache was coming over him then motioning his hands. “You’re saying that Clarence here is Swayzing some average prick?”

Sam and Dean pinched their lips; to block the urge to laugh. Castiel only sighed grouchily rolling his blue eyes. As pop culture savvy as he was it was getting tiresome for the angel to chase around the lingo these humans kept using. The Winchesters were stressful enough but now they had an evil duplicate in the form of Seth and Richie Gecko.

“Jimmy Novak the original occupant of this vessel has been long since deceased,” Castiel gently divulged at Seth in his earnest deep baritone. “My natural form is about the size of the New York City Chrysler building. And as for my wings…I lost them during the fall.” He shook his head glancing at the Winchesters. “Don’t we have more pressing matters to discuss?”

Seth and Richie’s faces were etched with astonishment; curiously rubbernecking the angel incessantly. If their jaws were any lower they’d be touching the ground. But Dean was looking for a time out session; feeling himself yawning as he interrupted the group.

“Yah ah listen Cass, I’m gonna need to grab some shut eye before we boogie on this,” the bravado hunter coughed; wiping at the dried brain gunk on his face from the earlier zombie attack. “And I seriously need a friggin shower dude.”

“No arguments here bravado,” Seth jeered at Dean cunningly; waving at the unflattering aroma his clothes were giving off. “I think you might need to scrub with some bleach while you’re at it.”

The hunter sourly glared at the tattoo suited criminal. “Screw you asshat!”

“Actually brother the stink you’re giving off right now would put a sewage plant to shame.” Richie deadpanned icily at Seth; wrinkling his nose. “It’s probably why I almost had that accident because you smell like a fucking toilet.”

That was the taller hunter’s que to break up the impending squabble.

“Okay! Okay, before we get into another bitching fest,” Sam sputtered nonchalantly; scrunching back the oncoming stress turning to his brother and the Geckos. “Let’s just clean up and hit the sac for a few hours. We’re not gonna get any crap done at this rate.” 

“Sammy’s right,” Dean assessed; patting his brother’s shoulder. “We can kill each other after we take out the crypt keepers and undead douches.” He spun his attention to Seth. “You and I’ll head back to the cars and grab our gear while our better halves settle in.”

“Whoa who the fuck died and put you in charge bravado?” Seth unheeded glaring at the hunter; throwing his hands up in outrage.

“No one, I did.” Dean clipped invading the tattoo suit’s space; expression hardening as he gnashed his teeth. “Let’s get one thing straight here kid; I’m not your friend and this ain’t a friggin dance party we’re here to work. Those things are out there killing people and if we don’t stop the sons of bitches responsible, there won’t be anyone left!” 

“He’s right man.” Richie acquiesced hollowly at his brother; shifting from one foot to the other.

There was an uncomfortable pause followed by an antagonized grumbled.

Seth rolled his eyes; blowing out his cheeks. “Whatever; I just wanna get this shit over with.”

Obviously everyone had been on edge since the attack at the motel; tensions were flaring between the five distinct personalities. Never the less Seth reluctantly followed Dean out to the cars for their bags while Sam, Richie and Castiel explored the conditions of the compound. It was definitely much cleaner and homier than that cheap dump they were all staying at previously. 

Place was furnished, with several rooms, including 2/1 bathrooms; the interior was almost identical to the Geckos original base of operations in San Antonio. Along with electricity they also had running water; what a relief. Sam nodded approvingly as he browsed; this compound was no Men of Letters bunker but it was durable. Obviously the vampire had made sure the space was prepped before anyone thought about staying the night. However there wasn’t any food in the fridge and since three of the five were human they would need to grocery shop later depending on how long it took to wrap the case. 

Fortunately the Winchesters and the Geckos got their own quarters but they fought over the bathrooms; Dean and Seth couldn’t wait to scrub the viscera residue off their bodies. Castiel was the only one in the group who didn’t require sleep; contently lounging about on the couch with his mp3 player. After washing up, the five occupants settled down for the remainder of the early morning. Sam sat in his room, texting Mary with the address and directions to the compound; she would arrive there sometime that day. Seth and Dean were out like lights but Richie couldn’t sleep at all; not while the Fullers were still captive so he continued to jot in his journal.

Sleeping in till about lunchtime Seth later ran out for a couple errands; grabbing sustenance for himself and the Winchesters while they waited for Mary. Sam and Dean had neglected to mention to the Geckos that the backup they sent for was actually their own mother; were they in for a surprise. Within that time frame hostility between the four began to dwindle as they started discussing a plan of action; but the Winchesters still had their queries about Richie’s preternatural condition based on the details Castiel had revealed earlier. Eventually they’d get back to that dilemma but for now it was all about the case.  
________________________________________

“So who the hell’s this extra party anyway?” Seth prodded curiously squinting; standing outside of the compound folding his arms next to Castiel and the Winchesters with Richie loitering in the shade. “You sure we even need them?”

The composed vampire was at a loss for words; rolling his eyes. He didn’t discern listening to Seth’s incessant whining for another whole day.

“Really Seth?” Richie apathetically chided at his mortal sibling in the background, “We haven’t even seen this person yet and you’re already bitching? Jesus that’s gotta be a record even for you.”

Seth scowled petulantly.  
“Hey I just don’t want anyone slowing me down alright Richard,” the older Gecko brother scantily simpered; grimacing at the culebra over his shoulder. “The last thing we need is some jackass who can’t even shoot straight.”  
“Oh don’t worry brother, no one could slow you down in a gun fight; you already move at a snail’s pace.”  
Promptly the older Gecko brother flashed his glock at his preternatural sibling; with a smart-aleck expression.  
“And how fast will you be if I take out those knee caps?” Seth deadpanned raising a brow. “At the rate you’re going with the lack of food and sleep; I’m surprised you even have any snake juice left.”  
Richie biliously scrutinized his brother, twitching his jaw; sitting back in the shade extending his middle finger.  
“Would you ass clowns knock it off?” Dean bellowed; shaking his head at the Geckos. Damn and he though his fights with Sam were irritating. “What are you in friggin kindergarten? Save it for Springer.  
Seth and Richie shot irked expressions at the hunter.  
“We’re waiting for another hunter like us,” Sam muttered derisively at the Geckos. “One of the best.” He stopped, snickering mischievously while touching his forehead. “And I don’t think they’ll slow you down.”  
“Yah so don’t embarrass us with your marital issues.” The older Winchester scolded, putting a hand over his eyes when he heard a familiar motorcycle nearby. An unheeded grin began to spread across the bravado hunter’s lips. She was here. “Trust me; you boys don’t want things get ugly with this person.”  
Castiel awkwardly leaned in close to Sam out of earshot; wearing a blank expression. “You didn’t tell them about Mary?”  
The taller hunter subtly held his hand up in front of Castiel; consorting him.  
“Just go with it Cass.” Sam coaxed the vacantly glaring angel.  
VAROOM! VAROOM! Like a clap of thunder the roaring engine of a black Harley road up alongside of the Winchesters, Seth and Castiel; Richie stoically rubbernecking behind them. The mysterious driver was covered in black from the waist up including the helmet catching the sun’s rays; also wearing leggy blue jeans with black combat boots. Swinging one leg off the motorcycle with grace the stranger collectively grasped the helmet and yanked it off; revealing the identity to be none other than Sam and Dean’s mother Mary Winchester.  
Richie’s gut fluttered with anxiety when he thought it was Dakoda McGraw. Seth’s jaw unscrewed watching as the ravishing mid to late thirties looking woman shook her blond locks under the light wearing an alluring expression; resembling a hellion golden goddess. The older Gecko brother’s heart started pounding wildly as he felt his body engulf into flames; obsessively gawking at the woman quickly approaching the Winchesters embracing the taller hunter first. Dean immediately fired a taut glare at the older Gecko brother; he didn’t appreciate that kid ogling his mother.  
“Hey boys!” Mary beatifically greeted the hunters; glancing respectively at the angel. “Castiel.”  
“Hello Mary.” The stolid angel greeted her gently.  
Richie furrowed his eyebrows suspiciously. “Who’s the Charlie’s Angel?”  
“That fellas…would be mom.” Dean chirped wearing a proud grin; hugging the woman.  
Seth blinked perplexedly throwing the bravado hunter an are-you-fucking-shitting-me expression.  
“Wait a second, this babe here’s your old lady?!”  
Sam and Dean nodded; resulting in Seth’s sly lopsided grin as he evasively checked her out.  
“Now that is a MILF.” he muttered; bobbing his head wolfishly.  
Richie pinched his lips; smacking his forehead as Castiel’s statuesque frame drifted backwards towards him.  
“I may be fluid in most of the phrases humans use these days, but your brother’s term escapes my understanding,” the despondent toned angel dully proclaimed; rubbernecking the culebra. “I’m assuming it is an inappropriate innuendo of some sort. Do I even want to know what he was implying?”  
Richie cringed jerking his head at Castiel; wearing an insolent expression. “You really don’t.” he deadpanned; patting the angel’s shoulder.  
Castiel inclined his head; doe-eyed. “Alright.”  
Sam and Dean exchanged chagrined faces as they watched Seth silently drooling over Mary.  
“So she’s a hunter?” Richie queried guardedly at the Winchesters; folding his arms as he leaned against the wall. “Like you guys?”  
“Yah this is our mother, Mary Winchester.” Sam introduced throwing his arm around the blond woman; ushering her attention to Seth and Richie. Based on her vexed exterior she didn’t look that thrilled to see them. “Mom, these are the Gecko brothers; Seth and Richie.”  
“Ah yes I’ve heard about you two.” The blond woman glared her blue eyes. “One of you is a vampire right?”  
Richie impassively waved his hand at Mary. “I’m a culebra.” He sardonically corrected.  
Suddenly the older Gecko brother snapped out of his naughty fantasies when he acknowledged the elephant in the room; Mary’s age. She should’ve been at least a decade older than Sam and Dean to be their mother and she looked almost as young as they did. What the hell?  
“Hold on, how the hell is this even possible?” Seth jumped in petulantly; gesticulating at the Winchesters then to the alluring blond woman. “No offense lady, but it doesn’t look ya caught up with father time very much; unless you went Bicentennial.”  
Mary gave a half shrug. “Long story short, I was dead.”  
“Been there.” The vampire piped with an inscrutable smirk; raising his hand like a kid in a classroom.  
“Us too.” Sam and Dean tossed in synchronously; wearing bleak expressions.  
Castiel's face fell glum; sighing petulantly. "Death is something that I'm unfortunately all too familiar with."  
Seth scrunched his eyes shaking his head hysterically; trying to process the information being thrown at him. It was absurd enough he’d just learned that zombies, necromancers, monster hunters and angels all existed; among other things. He had to get a grip on himself before he went off on all cylinders.  
  
“Then how the fuck is she alive?” the older Gecko brother pointed at Mary skeptically; jerking his head at the Winchesters. “Is it the same deal as Clarence?”  
Mary scrunched her face towards the appalling language coming out of the young man’s mouth. Dean instantly caught on to this; kneading her shoulder.  
“I know mom,” the bravado hunter deadpanned gruffly at the blond woman; rolling his eyes. “We’ve been listening to the crap coming out of these kids’ mouths since last night. Just hold your ears.”  
“Mary has been deceased for three decades.” Castiel responded Seth grimly. “And she was resurrected by the darkness; which is why she maintains the age of her death.”  
Richie shot the angel a dubious glare. “The darkness?”  
“God’s sister.” Dean interjected cleverly; he couldn’t stop musing over the Geckos’ anxiety from all the different supernatural bombs being dropped on them. “Like I said fellas…” The hunter added cryptically; ticking his head. “Anything and everything you can think of, exists out there.” Spontaneously he pointed at Richie. “Mean the proofs in the pudding when it comes to gater-face.”  
The culebra’s expression contorted briskly at the bravado hunter’s remark. Then Mary intensely shuffled towards Seth. Alarm bells started blaring off in his mind. Something inside told the older Gecko brother she wasn’t looking for a hug or a handshake. The woman’s eyes were arctic freezing as they bore through Seth and Richie; invading the tattoo suited man’s space.  
“So you’re the young men who kidnapped my boys huh?” Mary inquired venomously; staring down the Geckos.  
Seth was panicking on the inside but he did his best to hide it with a poker-face of attitude. Sam pinched his lips, rubbernecking incisively at his over protective mother standing up to his former abductor.  
“Yah, yah Mama Bear don’t get your bra in a bind.” The older Gecko brother snorted derisively at the woman; folding his arms.  
Uh oh! He probably shouldn’t have said that, but like most times Seth managed to stick his foot in his mouth at the wrong moment. Richie went bug-eyed at the thought of what was coming next as the color in his brother’s complexion drained. Mary’s teeth gritted, raising her clenched fist threateningly. Seth winced, bracing himself for impact of the hit. Just as the blond woman swung her arm aiming for his face, someone reflexively caught her wrist in mid-air. At first Seth thought it was Richie but to his dismay it was Dean Winchester; once again intervening the situation. Did this guy have a hero complex or something?

“Dean?” Mary glared at the bravado hunter bewilderedly. “What are you doing?” 

“Let it go mom,” Dean rasped obstinately; lowing his distraught mother’s arm away from Seth. He could tell that she was seething; offended that he’d stepped in to defend a man who deserved nothing more than a cold jail cell in prison. It bothered Dean having to protect someone like Seth from Mary but they didn’t have time to be at each other’s throats; not with many innocent lives at stake. “Trust me I’ve wanted to knock these sons of bitches around since Sammy and I nearly got Scarfaced by em’ at the warehouse. But what’s going on right now is bigger than this crap.” Dean glanced at the Geckos who were completely shell-shocked and turned back to Mary’s rigid expression. “They’re part of this case and we need their help.”

Mary reluctantly yanked back her arm from Dean; glaring at Seth. 

“Fine,” she retorted brashly; disengaging from her son and the black tattoo suited young man. But as Mary turned to storm ahead to the entrance of the compound, she bitterly fired back at the Geckos. “If you ever touch my sons again…I’ll kill you both.”

Seth backed off with his hands up; creasing his forehead. “Whoa I got no beef with you Beatrix Kidow, alright.”

Mary grimaced at the older Gecko brother; stalking off after Sam towards the entrance. Seth could almost feel his heart jumping out of his chest as he pressed his palm against it. And when he looked back at Dean he could tell the guy was looking to pulverize him. Despite that the older Gecko brother couldn’t help feeling relieved that the hunter had come to his aid yet again; provoking a more appreciative demeanor. 

“Hey thanks for the assistance there bravado,” Seth murmured; clapping Dean’s shoulder. “I thought your mom was gonna Kill Bill my ass.” 

“Oh that wasn’t for you, it was for her,” Dean sneered smartly flaring his nostrils; glowering at the older Gecko brother. “If I had the right mind I’d let her waste you freaks.” Without warning the hunter snatched Seth’s collar and whipped him into the wall of the compound; restraining the kid in place with his knife in hand. “Oh and if I ever catch you ass monkeys drooling over my mom again; I won't hesitate to cut your damn eyes out.”

“Yah, I think I got the message loud and clear jackass.” 

Dean roughly released Seth and stalked after Castiel, Sam and Mary; leaving the older Gecko brother to lick his wounds. Richie had been scorning at his mortal sibling during the whole altercation with the Winchesters; shaking his head blowing out his cheeks chagrined. When Seth peered at the vampire’s peeved expression he rolled his eyes at him.

“You’re an idiot you know that.” Richie hissed at his brother; smacking him the side of the head. 

“Ah! Just shut up Richard!” Seth huffed as they headed back inside the compound.

Finally assembled; the group gathered around the granite island like pawns on a Chess board to discuss strategy as well as the contents of the case. Sam was sitting in front of his laptop, Dean had his iPad out and Richie was carrying around his old notebook; full of drawings from cryptic images he’d received from Cross. Castiel’s stoic posture loitered in the background; Mary’s hands were leaning on the island surface. Seth had gone to the fridge for a beer as they all settled into detective mode; realizing it was going to be a hell of a night.

“Maximillian Cross was reanimated by this guy ranger Gary Willet,” Richie’s composed voiced spouted intellectually to the observant faces. “He’s a necromancer, they both are. Before I killed Cross, I swapped blood with him; that’s how Seth and I ended up in Albuquerque.”

The Winchester brothers’ faces squinted dismayed.

“Swapped blood?” Sam’s brow puckered glancing at the dapper dressed vampire. “I’m guessing this is another one of your culebra attributes?’

Dean was wearing a wry expression; wrinkling his nose in disgust, pressing his hand to his stomach. “And please don’t tell us it’s some twisted lizard version of tonsil hockey. I just ate dude.”

“What?! No!” Richie scoffed; blinking perplexingly at the Winchesters. He knew he’d stepped into that though considering Sam and Dean were still unaware of all his powers. They didn’t even factor in on his yob. Sighing as he rubbed at the astriction from his forehead; it looked as though the vampire was going to have to elaborate further than he cared to about his abilities in order to stay on topic. “Blood is the conduit of the soul which is a culebra’s food source. When we’re exposed to a person’s soul via fluids we can read and absorb their memories, personal traits and powers; shit like that. And feeding also helps us regenerate quicker.”

The bravado hunter’s hardened complexion shifted in to a sarcastic shrug; like a lightbulb had switched on in his brain.

“Well that explains Poindexter’s Jason Bourne moves at the warehouse.” Dean deadpanned; gesticulating at Richie. “You were sucking on poor sons of bitches souls like friggin milkshakes.”

Richie furrowed his eyebrows apathetically at the bravado hunter. 

“For your information Hasselhoff this sick skillset I used to kick your ass, was obtained from a Jaguar demon.” He flashed a cocky grin at Dean. “Among many other tributes I acquired when I was down in Xibalba.”

Mary squinted as she folded her arms. “Xibalba?” she queried.

“Hell.” Seth abrasively clarified the blond woman; taking a sip of his beer bottle.

Sam’s eyes shot wide; slack-jawed. “Wait, there’s more than one Hell now?”

“Yes Sam,” Castiel’s raspy voice spontaneously interrupted. “Just as you have different continents here on earth; there are individual sectors of Heaven and Hell if I’m not mistaken.” In light of this knowledge, the angel immediately received five alarmed rubbernecking faces; he continued as he approached the island standing next to Dean. “Separate belief systems among the human race require isolated factions within those plains. And Xibalba is a portion of Hell; as are Purgatory and the Empty.”

Dean’s eye brow cocked up incredulously; rubbing both sides of his temple with his fingers. 

“Damn it Cass, multiple dick dimensions?!” he bellowed sulkily. “I swear I’m getting a friggin aneurism.”

Seth snorted cynically at Dean before taking another swig of beer. “Yah well join the club bravado.”

Castiel’s docile mood immediately shifted indignant as he stonily approached the culebra. 

“But there is something else that has me disoriented,” the angel’s blue eyes squinted ominously at Richie. “You mentioned culebras absorb the thoughts, traits and abilities through the souls they overindulge; why haven’t you acquired Maximillian Cross’s necromancer divinities?”  
Richie flashed the angel a boasting lopsided grin. 

“I was stumped on that one until I boned up on my necromancy knowledge,” he cleverly divulged; leaning against the island pulling up an article on Dean’s iPad. Seth cynically smacked his forehead; he’s showing off again. “Turns out these guys possess dynamism over all the dead and since culebras are technically an undead species we can’t ingest their powers only their memories. This ah tends to juice up our individual yobs though.”

Dean blinked confoundedly; jerking his head. “A what now?”

“Yob, our extra power,” Richie substantiated derisively at the dismayed bravado hunter; rolling his eyes irritably. “Every culebra has their own unique divinity; wings, constricting, fire breathing, scale armor etc. the list goes on.”

“So what’s yours?” Sam’s searching expression cocked an eyebrow.

Instead of admitting it, the vampire merely turned to the hunters wearing a mischievous grin; crossing his arms apathetically. “Hey if Captain Feathers doesn’t feel like sharing with the class,” his eyes darted to Castiel. “There’s no reason why I need to.”

“Yah, yah don’t get all Vincent Price on us Richard,” Seth scoffed dismissively at his preternatural sibling; rubbing his temple. “I think everyone’s had their fair share of snake 101 for the day.”  
Mary impatiently inspected her nails then folded her arms. As fascinating as all this information was none of it had to do with Willet or Cross. She preferred they all remained focussed on hunting. 

“Can we stay on topic here guys?” Mary interrupted; as if she were lecturing five children. Then she turned her scrutinized attention to the Geckos. “Why would these necromancers be after you in the first place?”

Castiel had a hypothesis to the blond woman’s query as he vacantly stood alongside the group observing the conversation. He’d been puzzling over the ancient knowledge absorbed from the Gecko brothers since healing them back at the motel. These two young men were of great significance yet the angel couldn’t figure out the reason. If Castiel could just remember where he’d seen that Mayan iconography; he might be able to solve the mystery. Since the necromancers were after Seth and Richie it had to be because of that antediluvian text. Before he could answer Mary, Seth responded.

“Fuck if we know lady,” the older Gecko brother seethed; shrugging his shoulders. “They took our people and that’s why we trailed the bastards down here alright.”

“You’re in Albuquerque to actually save someone?” Sam prodded with a skeptic quirk peering up from his computer screen; like his mind was blown. He’d obviously refused to let go of the abduction. “There’s a plot twist. Who are they?”

Richie scowled insolently at the shaggy hunter; blue eyes like glint glaciers.

“That’s none of your damn business Hair Club for Men,” the culebra snarled abrasively. Then he asserted himself in his impassive demeanor. “The point is Seth and I came here specifically for the people Willet and Cross abducted from us.”

Dean began to chortle mirthlessly; unable to believe his ears firing off a whim of sarcasm at the culebra.

“So these goons Excess Baggage some pals of yours and you thought what? Anything they can do we can do better?”

“That movie is shit by the way,” snarked Richie scowling at Dean; gesticulating. “And second you’re the one who fucking attacked us first asshole. Not to mention you would’ve been zombie chow if we hadn’t covered your ass ya prick!”

Tensions had risen lately between the hunter and the culebra. Dean was fuming as he stormed into the taller Gecko brother’s space; gritting his teeth and squeezing his fists. Richie looked like he wanted rip something apart; color in his face going beat red as he emulated a nostril flaring bull. They’d struggled to work together since the attack at Sunset and if someone didn’t step in the situation was going to get out of control. 

“Just give me a reason to gank your scaly ass bitch!” Dean growled.

Richie hissed sullenly at the bravado hunter; irises shifting into reptilian slits. “Think you can take me flannel boy; be my guest!”

Sam and Seth immediately jumped to the aid of their hostile siblings; prying them away from one another before someone threw the first punch. This was getting out of hand. How were they supposed to work together if they couldn’t even get along for five seconds? Time was wasting and the group still hadn’t thought out their plan.

“Hey stop!” Seth scolded; pushing against his preternatural sibling’s chest. “Richard back off!”

“Dean, that’s enough!” Sam lectured; yanking his older brother’s arm and stirring him back to a different position around the island. “I swear we’re gonna have to get you two in a boxing ring and just let you Rocky out your issues.”

“I can’t help it Sammy I don’t like these guys.” Dean huffed glaring at the culebra being criticized by his older sibling. “I know we need em’ for the case but I just…I’m so damn tired of working with monsters man.”

Sam kneaded his brother’s shoulder; pinching his lips. “I get it and I’m right there with you but Dean…it’s just like you said, what’s happening right now is bigger than all our crap combined.” He stalled for a moment; empathetically surveying the Geckos at the other end of the room, peering quickly back to his brother. “And you remember what Cass told us about them; what he said about Richie.” 

“Yah you’re right.” Dean inhaled and exhaled the ire out of his system; nodding his head as he looked over his shoulder at the Gecko brothers. “I don’t know maybe these lizard boys’ll grow on me. But it’s gonna take a friggin while Sammy.”

“Hey no said it was gonna be easy.” Sam encouraged awkwardly; patting his brother’s shoulders.

After getting a minute to cool off the group returned to the discussion with Mary at the helm. This time they were all more focused on the topic at hand.

“You said earlier that you retained information from this Maximillian Cross when you when swapped blood with him?” she queried at Richie. “What kind of information?”  
Richie nodded mechanically; drawing out his worn old notebook and tossing it on the island. Seth rolled his eyes derisively; running his hands down his face the moment he laid eyes on the ugly thing.

“Not this shit again. Richie no one cares about your little doodle book.” He chided. “Put it away.”

The vampire grimaced at his mortal sibling dourly. “I told you this stuff means something Seth.” Flipping through the pages at warp speed Richie presented a page of unfinished circles to the group which looked like the omega symbol. “When I read Cross’s soul I kept seeing these things in my head. I think it’s the crest of the necromancer’s covenant. And back at the warehouse when I was squaring off with Thriller he mentioned something about…Circulo Mortis. It means Circle of Death in Latin.”

The angel squinted his docile eyes; inclining his head recognizing the origins of these cryptic shapes. 

“I’ve heard of them,” Castiel rasped gently; gawking stoically at the other faces in the group as he pointed at the drawings. “If memory serves Xibalban necromancers are nothing like the ones residing on this plain. There are angels in heaven who fear them because of their insatiable divinities. They don’t just maintain dynamism over the deceased, some are powerful enough to manipulate”-

“Celestial beings; but I’m not sure if these necromancers know about angels,” Sam interrupted; reading an article off his computer. Immediately Dean, the Geckos, Mary and the angel shuffled behind him. “Yah it says here: Circulo Mortis are an ancient powerful faction of immortal occultists who ruled a section of Xibalba before their unfortunate exile over their abuse of dead-fusing; which is a process of bonding with/absorbing a deceased soul into the body, heightening their divinities. Apparently it’s like a massive high for them.” He paused glancing over his shoulder at the group then persisted on. “Their solemn priority was to keep all deceased souls within Hell obedient. But obviously that didn’t last.”

“So in other words, these douchebags are badass?” Dean threw in impudently bobbing is head; scratching at the stubble on his cheek. “Awesome.”

“I don’t like this.” Castiel warned darkly to the group; watching Sam scroll through the disturbing drawings of the necromancers. “If these aberrations contain that much power; it could become catastrophic for earth. We could be plunging straight into another apocalypse.” 

Seth ran his hands down his face cynically; turning to the angel. “You’re saying if we don’t ice these fucks we’re gonna be soaking in World War Z?”

The doe-eye angel’s face fell guiltily. “Pretty much.” 

“Well Fester Adams did warn me the world was about to go to shit.” Richie divulged darkly; eyes scanning Sam’s computer screen. “And since today is the beginning of Dia de los Muertos I can only imagine what Willet’s got instore for the locals.”

Seth scrutinized at the culebra. “I thought today was Halloween.”

“See this is why you gotta start brushing up on your literature brother,” Richie jeered cockily at his mortal sibling; folding his arms over his chest. “Otherwise you’re brain’s just gonna fall out your ears. Today is Halloween; Day of the Dead is the extended Mesoamerican version of that.”

That’s when a light went on in Dean’s head.

“Wait a second, Sammy that festival in South Valley,” Quickly the hunter pulled out the crinkled flier from his jacket pocket and slammed it on the island’s surface for everyone to see. “Whatever these sons of bitches are planning, it’s going down tonight.”

“My god, all those people,” Mary pressed her palm to her mouth exasperatingly. “And by the sounds of it this thing could spread fast; spilling into different states.”

“Makes sense,” Sam studied the flier; pinching his lips pensively. “Day of the Dead; it’s a perfect window for opening hell dimensions. Cross was resurrected from that mortuary for a reason; it’s gotta be about this festival.” Sighing raking his fingers through his long hair; the younger Winchester realized they had nothing to identify the necromancer they were after. “I just wish we had a photo or a sketch of Gary Willet; otherwise we’re flying blind here guys.”

Richie immediately shot Sam a roguish grin. “Already got that covered.” Flipping the pages of his notebook; the vampire stopped on an authentic pencil drawing of the ranger, the exact description Lenny had given the Winchesters yesterday. Seth’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “Will this do?”

Sam was taken aback; puckering his brows. “Ah ya this’ll work.” He affirmed; taking the notebook to scan the artwork into his laptop.

Seth clamped a hand on Richie’s shoulder, spinning him around; wearing a suspicious expression on his face. 

“Richard I’ve known you my whole life; you’ve never drawn a bowl of fruit much less a stick figure that detailed,” he condescended. “Since when the hell did you become fucking Van Gough?”

“Since I bit a profiler last year who murdered her own family,” Richie countered smartly; kneading his mortal sibling. “I sketched Willet after I saw his face in Cross’s soul. Like I said brother, the perks of my abilities are endless.”

Seth shook his head agitatedly.

“Guys look at this!” Sam called out eagerly as he’d managed to find a file on ranger necromancer; reading it off the screen. “Gary Willet, profile says he’s a ranger of the sheriff’s department in Amarillo Texas; no spouse or next of kin and his record is squeaky clean.” That’s strange, Sam thought as he read on. “But it says jack about the guy’s personal info; age and where he was born. It’s like he just appeared out of thin air.”

“Willet is an immortal being who’s been trapped on earth for centuries,” Castiel confided mechanically; face void of emotion as he asserted at the shaggy hunter. “I would assume he’d have to alter his identity in order or to avoid suspicion.” 

Dean sighed sardonically. “I’m not looking to date the guy Sammy; I just wanna know how the hell we take these things down.”

“Doesn’t say; standard weapons I’m guessing.” Sam shrugged.

“Alight then, strap on your skull masks gang,” the bravado hunter enthusiastically clapped his hands at the group. “Cause tonight we’re going Specter on this bitch.”

The Gecko brother’s simultaneously exchanged disapproving looks then back at the hunter; face-palming.

“What?!” Dean blurted incredulously.

“Bravado I’m beginning to question your taste in cinema.” Seth scoffed; creasing his forehead and crossing his arms. “Of all the Bond films ever made and you had to pick that shit.”

Dean winced bewilderedly. “What the hell’s wrong with Specter? Craig’s awesome in that.”

“Please,” Richie impassively snorted; gesturing dismissively at the dumbfounded hunter. “He’s got nothing on Roger Moore who by the way is arguably the best Bond of all time. If you’re gonna reference a 007 flick you should’ve gone with Live and Let Die; now that is Bond in his prime.”

Sam rolled his eyes.

“Guys can we kill the Entertainment Weekly,” the shaggy hunter interjected grouchily at his brother and the Geckos. “We’re supposed to be hunting Xibalban necromancers and zombies. Not arguing about James Bond movies.” But just when he thought he could resist the topic; Sam threw in his two cents; cheeks twitching. “Besides, nothing beats Brosnan in Golden Eye.”

Richie and Dean fired appalling looks at Sam.

“Really Sammy? Golden Eye?” the hunter deadpanned. “Dude come on!”

“That movie sucks!” chided the culebra. “I’m getting bored out of my skull just thinking about it.”

“Well I’m with BFG on this one, boys.” Seth acquiesced; half shrugging. “Brosnan was badass in that film.”  
Richie glowered, crossing his arms at his mortal sibling; as if that comment offended him. “I’m not even calling you my brother anymore.”

WHISTLE! 

“Boys!” Mary hollered agitated at the two sets of brothers squabbling; tapping her foot impatiently. “I hate to be the den mother in this but can we stay on track here?!” She shook her head disappointedly. “There are people dying out there; we don’t have time for this crap. Now get your heads out of your asses and let’s get this done.”

The Winchesters and the Geckos went bug-eyed; stunned speechless. However the intensity in the room thickened when Castiel added a piece of his mind into the lecture.

“We could be a war with something detrimental to your world; something far more dangerous than anything we’ve ever faced.” the angel conveyed dourly; eyes blazing as he stoically approached the four shame-faced men. “If I wanted to hear incessant bickering all day I could just tune into that Kardashian family on VH1.”

It took a second for the boys to collect themselves until Dean volunteered to break the awkward soundless barrier. He felt so stupid arguing about something so petty when lives were at stake.

“Mom and Cass are right,” he agreed gruffly; turning to Sam and the Geckos. “This isn’t doing us any friggin good. If we’re gonna work together to take these bastards down we gotta cut the crap. So suit up and let’s head out.”

“I’ll ride with you and Sam,” Mary clarified.

Dean nodded. “Okay, Cass you’re with the Reservoir Dogs.”

The angel sighed reluctantly; glancing at the Gecko brothers. “If I must.”

But the vampire wasn’t thrilled with the driving conditions of this hunt; forehead creasing sardonically.

“Um one problem Indiana,” Richie tossed in cynically at the hunter. “You know I’ve got a little allergy to the sunlight right?”

Dean grinned at the vampire like a smart-aleck; patting his shoulder. “Get a sombrero and some sunscreen; you’ll blend right in.”

Richie bitterly glared at the bravado hunter defensively; collecting his notebook off the island. Seth meanwhile was getting a little fed up with taking orders from Dean. He was usually the one bossing everyone around; giving them jobs and this was like a cosmic joke being thrown in his face. Did he really sound like that? The longer he and Richie hung around the Winchester the more it drove Seth nuts.

“And while we’re out there hunting these ghouls, what the hell are we gonna do about our people?” Seth chimed saucily; invading Dean’s space. “Willet and Cross still got em’ somewhere.”

“We can’t think about that right now,” Dean countered; gesticulating at the older Gecko brother. “Our first priority in this mission is ganking these sons of bitches before the world goes ZOMBI.”

“Bullshit!” Richie snapped shuffling quickly at the bravado hunter; clenching his jaw. “We came down here for ONE reason and ONE reason only; to get our people back jackass.”  
Dean squinted his eyes ominously at the culebra.

“Well you’re working on a whole new deal here kid,” he unheeded at Richie’s seething complexion. “If you’re gonna work with us, you GQ douchebags are following my lead.”

Seth scowled fierily at the hunter.

“I take orders from no one Bravado. We’re getting our fucking people back; end of discussion.”

Dean shook his head; arguing with these brothers wasn’t working. Maybe they responded better to Sam’s approach in diplomacy. The last thing the Winchesters needed was Seth and Richie bailing out on them when the crap hit the fan. They needed the Geckos whether they wanted to admit it or not.

“Listen, Sammy and I’ll help you two get your people back,” Dean promised sincerely; softening his baritone as he gently clamped a hand on Seth’s shoulder. “But right now we gotta stop whatever Willet is planning tonight. If this friggin monster unleashes hell on earth; we won’t be able to save anyone.”

Richie sullenly chewed the inside of his cheek; scorning at the hunter. But found himself nodding reluctantly. He didn’t want the world to end any more than Seth did. 

“Fine.” Huffed the older Gecko brother; rolling his dark eyes. “But I’m holding you to that bravado.” And he began ushering Richie out of the compound sulking; Castiel trailing behind them like an obedient little ducking. 

Just as Sam and Dean turned to grab some gear in their rooms; Mary halted their attention. The look on her face told them she was on the verge of unloading them with another unexpected bombshell.

“Mom?” Dean blinked perplexedly.

“Mom what is it?” Sam queried; forehead creasing as he shoved his laptop back into its case.

She hesitated for a moment before answering; brushing some blond hair back behind her ear. “When I was reading your dad’s journal; I found a letter hidden inside the slot.” Reaching into her leather coat pocket she presented a folded sheet of lined paper addressed to Sam and Dean. “It’s from Henry Winchester; your dad’s father. But this is impossible, he was absent from John his whole life. How does he even know about you two?”

Sam and Dean exchanged flabbergasted glances. They remembered Henry very well; he’d sacrificed himself to save their lives as well as bestow them with their birthright being Men of Letters legacies. Without him they wouldn’t have known about the bunker, the secrets it possessed or their true purpose. Sam and Dean had also neglected to tell Mary they’d met Henry via time travel a few years back. But why would he leave them a letter; and about what? 

Sam took the folded paper from Mary; his heart rose in this throat when he saw the date. “Dean it’s from 2014; the year Henry time traveled to warn us about Abadon.” He handed it to his brother.

“Wait, you met him?” Mary beguiled; switching glances between the brothers. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Yah it’s a long story.” Sam replied solemnly; patting his mother’s shoulder. “We’ll fill you in later.” 

“Son of a bitch.” Dean croaked wide-eyed; surveying the contents of the letter. “Why the hell didn’t HG Wells tell us about this before?”

“And how did Henry even know about the bunker; or that we’d find it?” Sam’s heart was racing with anxiety; rubbing his palms down his face. “What’s he saying Dean?”

Before Dean could process the information all at once, Mary responded her sons with a steady composure.

“The letter mentions something about an important top secret parcel hidden away at the bunker,” she surmised obstinately as Dean read the fine print. “And Henry provided you with directions to find it as well as a code.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I call this my little Easter egg chapter since it gives you guys an idea of where the story is heading ^_^ Hope you enjoyed that. Get ready for the Day of the Dead festival showdown coming up!


	7. Chapter 6

Accordingly, the Winchesters and the Geckos made their way out to the compound garage where they’d stored their vehicles; packing necessities for the trip out to South Valley. No one in the group knew what to expect yet given the grisly circumstances previously back at the motel it was safe to assume Willet and Cross had something nefarious planned for the annual Marigold Day of the Dead festival; which meant it didn’t hurt to go heavily armed for the big event. 

While Mary stowed the guns she’d brought along into the backseat of her sons’ car and Castiel impatiently leaned against the cougar; the two sets of siblings piled around the trunk of the Winchesters’ impala sorting out and discussing weapons.

“I don’t know what you boys are packing these days,” Dean procured dryly popping the trunk open in front of the Geckos’ marveled faces; pulling out an Ithaca 37 (Sawed Off). “But my gut says it’s gonna get ugly out there tonight. So if there’s anything extra you might need, my Baby’s got you covered.”

Seth’s forehead creased; squinting at Dean. He’d recalled the hunter mentioning that name before at the motel. “Baby?”

“It’s what he calls the impala.” Sam answered averting his chagrined gaze from Dean and the older Gecko brother.

Richie just cynically stared at the bravado hunter with cow eyes; unable to believe what he was hearing.

“You actually named your car?” the vampire dejected caustically; twisting his lips.

“Course I named her,” Dean gloated with pride; gently slapping the hood of the vehicle. Nothing could come between him and that sweet ride; not even attempted mockery. “She’s my girl, isn’t that right Baby?”

“Actually she was your dad’s girl first.” Mary smart-aleck chimed in; poking her head out the impala.

Dean shook his head disparagingly at the blond woman; wearing a look of thanks-for-spoiling-my-fun-mom.

“Yah but I restored Baby numerous times,” he countered jerkily; patting the base of the trunk. “So she’s all mine?”

“Including the backseat?”

GULP! The second Mary uttered those cringing words Dean could feel his stomach churn. Sam was trying hard not to laugh at his brother’s obvious discomfort. No way did the bravado hunter need another reminder of what his parents did in the car when they were younger. She’d already teased him about it once; and Dean wasn’t looking to be disconcerted in front of fresh eyes.

“Common mom really?!” he sulked sourly; wavering his hand. “I don’t need another friggin visual.”

“What’s that?” Seth curiously whispered at Sam.

“You don’t wanna know.” The taller hunter hushed him.

Richie just scrutinized Dean with a sardonic grin. “No one fucking names their vehicles anymore dumbass.”

*COUGH* Seth’s sudden urge to clear his throat immediately had all eyes on him. Normally he was the one intimidating people but this time he looked like a guilt-ridden puppy. The vampire could only assume his mortal sibling was about to confess something extremely humiliating which was very un-Gecko-like.

“You didn’t.” Richie protested; defensively grimacing at the older Gecko brother.

Seth child-like slightly nibbled on his thumb nail staring upward; avoiding Richie’s critical eyes. His next goal of trying to hide the embarrassment was obviously his usual tough-guy attitude.

“Hey it was just spurring of the moment alright Richard!” he barked, gesticulating. Sam and Dean couldn’t help chortling to themselves. “Uncle Eddie used to do it all the time. What can I say, I got sentimental.”

“What the hell did you name our car Seth?” The vampire demanded, crossing his arms.

Seth hesitated for a minute before answering; shrugging sarcastically. Then he mumbled. “Honeybunny.”

“Nice.” Dean winked; giving the older Gecko brother the thumbs up.

Richie’s face screwed up acidulously. “Honeybunny?!”

“Yah, it’s a Pulp Fiction reference.” Seth scoffed, rolling his eyes. He didn’t want to think about it anymore than he had to. “Now shut up.”

The vampire shook his head; narrowing his icicle glare at his mortal sibling. He always feared someday that Seth would find a way to embarrass him; just never imagined that day would be today.

“We need to get a fucking dog.” Richie grumbled under his breath as he and Seth looked down into the trunk of the impala.

Everything the Geckos could imagine was presented in that truck; a nearly endless supply of guns, knives, ammunition, and artillery at their disposal. There were wooden stakes, charms, and even a pair of brass knuckles thrown in along with other miscellaneous tools for killing things. Exchanging mesmerized looks with each other Seth and Richie realized they’d just hit the mother lode. 

“Holy shit!” Seth gasped leaning in like a kid in a toy store; brown eyes flinging wide open at the Winchesters’ astonishing hidden arsenal. Above the weapons he could see a white star painted on the ceiling of the lid. “What the hell are you guys the fucking militia?!” he pointed to the large white pagan symbol. “And what’s with the Craft décor?”

“It’s a devil’s trap,” Dean confirmed smartly to the older Gecko brother; tapping the truck lid with smugness. “It ensures our storage of weapons safely guarded from demons and other such nasties. I definitely recommend you fellas paint yourselves a devil’s trap in your ride for future references unless you want the son of bitches to steal ya blind or gut you in your sleep.”

“Let me guess,” Seth prodded; raising a brow at Dean. “You speak of experience.”

The older Winchester brother’s mouth twitched darkly. “More than you know kid.”

Richie’s eyes directly zeroed in on the throwing stars; pushing up his glasses then picking one up with a diverted smirk on his face. 

“So…does this mean ghost ninjas exist too?” the vampire idly deadpanned at the Winchesters; twiddling the metallic throwing object between his fingers. “Or are you guys just watching too much Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles these days?”

Sam quickly snatched the sharp metal star from the culebra and placed it back in the trunk.

“It’s a long story,” he pretexted; conscientiously running his fingers through his shaggy brown hair. “Let’s just say there’s a certain weapon for taking out every single monster; it’s not always the standard ‘shoot em’ in the head’ deal.” Sam then shot a discreet look at his brother; with a teasing simper. “Also Dean’s an avid Turtles fan.”

The Geckos turned to Dean with presumptuous grins plastered to their faces.

“Shut up!” the bravado hunter disconcertedly carped; playfully smacking his chuckling taller brother’s shoulder. “At least I wasn’t the genius who broke his arm jumping off a shed because he thought he was Superman.”

“I was a kid Dean,” Sam countered face flustered; crossing his arms. “You on the other hand, pushing thirty-nine, still think you’re Batman.”

The older Winchester brother slumped shoulders unamused. He wasn’t a fan of people throwing his age in his face; it only reminded him of how long he and Sam had been doing the job.

“Dude, come on! Affleck is in his forties playing dark knight; nice try Sammy.”

“He’s an actor Dean.”

“So what?!”

While Seth and Richie were snickering at the Winchesters’ banter; Castiel’s raspier voice rumbled loudly in the background. And the four brothers instantly spun around facing the statuesque angel.

“While I can appreciate your insatiable admiration for popular culture,” Castiel cynically divulged at the boys; face completely despondent. “I’m not sure what fictional graphic novel heroes depicted in animal inspired attire has to do with hunting necromancers and undead abominations. Nor why we’re even discussing them.”

The older Gecko brother puckered his brow.

“Clarence has a point,” Seth averred sneeringly; plucking out a SIG-Sauer P320 from the trunk of the impala. “So instead of standing around yacking like a bunch of jackasses, what do ya say we all just shut the fuck up, pack our shit and ramble on outa here before we burn anymore daylight? Comprede?”

Sam, Dean and Richie shrugged, nodding reluctantly. Castiel’s face contorted with revulsion over the Geckos’ choice of profanity. Maybe everyone else was growing accustomed to it; the angel certainly didn’t favor their slang too much. And he was going to be traveling all the way to South Valley listening to it. Good thing he remembered to bring his MP3 player. That being said Castiel was at the very least appreciative Seth backed him up.

“Thank you…Seth,” The angel muttered grouchily at the older Gecko brother; pressing his lips with a slight frown, “though I probably would’ve worded that differently.”

Seth shrugged apathetically; clutching the gun he’d taken from the truck in his hands. “Ah we can’t all mouth off like Saints, Clarence.” And he gave the angel a friendly slap on the back. “Glad I could help though.”

With that little pep talk in mind the vampire glanced back at Sam and Dean; wearing an unreadable facial exterior. 

“We got junk in our trunk already, but we might look to you for the ammo,” Richie promulgated in a chiding tone at the Winchester brothers; patting their shoulders. “You two on the other hand are gonna need to stash up on stake bullets in case we run into any culebras over there. Xibalban necromancers like to use them as foot-soldiers and bodyguards which they call drones.”

Seth spontaneously popped his head into the conversation before ducking away to the cougar.

“And trust us, snakes aren’t the fucking Carebears.” He jibed.

“Yah they’re not as cuddly as I am.” The vampire added cheekily.

Dean arched his brow haughty at Richie; cocking his head to the side.

“Oh that’s a relief,” the bravado grimaced loftily; stiff-backed. “Cause for a minute there I almost had you pegged for Tender Heart.”

The vampire glowered at the hunter icily; a cunning gibe on the tip of his tongue until Sam stirred the conversation away from another impending argument brewing between the two men.

“Do you think maybe we could take some of those stake bullets off your hands?” the taller hunter queried at Richie in a diplomatic tone; hunching his shoulders anxiously as he inserted himself between his brother and the vampire. “That would be great.”

Richie kept his icy glare fixated on Dean’s equally hostile mug and responded hollowly. 

“Sure, why not.” Dragging his feet, the vampire lured the Winchesters over to the open trunk of the cougar where Seth was standing; gesturing at it with his hands. “As you can see we’re pretty well stocked up.”

Sam and Dean’s eyes wandered curiously at the Geckos’ hidden arsenal; twisting their lips. There weren’t that many weapons compared to what was stored in the impala but it was pretty decent; sorted guns, crowbars, a couple knives, spare tire; another indication these boys knew how to handle themselves in sticky situations.

Seth reached down and grabbed a couple spare boxes of stake bullet ammunition for the Winchesters; handing it to Dean. “Use with care and caution Bravado.” He advised leeringly. “We only have so much of this shit as it is.”

“And we’re not giving it away just so you assholes can shoot me with it later.” Richie chastised defensively; putting his hands on his hips and knitting his brows.

“I’ll be sure to bear that in mind.” Dean galled at the Gecko brothers, gleaming with deviltry; handing the bullets to Sam to store in the impala. “Long as mean-green Nosferatu here keeps those grills on lockdown, we’re good.”

Richie narrowed his eyes bitterly at Dean. “Don’t flatter yourself Bonanza; I’m not that appetized.”

“Alright lay off the fucking foreplay you two,” Seth scoffed rolling his eyes; wedging himself between a dismayed Richie and Dean. “Are we hitting the road or what?”

Simultaneously the hunter and the culebra tossed each other expressionless faces groaning as Sam returned to his brother’s side opposite the Geckos. Mary impatiently climbed inside the backseat of the impala while Castiel loitered behind the two sets of siblings. Without hesitation, the boys darkly glanced down into trunk synchronously.

“Let’s go to work.” Dean ticketed; nodding sideways as Seth shut the lid signifying the group to disband. But before the angel could follow the Geckos into their vehicle, the bravado hunter latched onto his arm. “Cass, could I talk to you for a second?”

Castiel’s blue eyes scrutinized at his friend; raising an eyebrow as the older Winchester brother pulled him aside out of earshot. “Dean, what is it?” he rasped fickly.

“Look, about what you told Sammy and me earlier,” the bravado hunter riposted warily; referring to Seth and Richie waiting in the revved up car. “All that crap you saw inside the Geckos; don’t tell them about it. Not until this Cold Case File is slammed shut.”

“You want me to lie to them?” Castiel’s deep baritone sounded almost offended; pulling away from the hunter’s grasp. “Knowing how pivotal their existence may be?”

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose; licking his lips as he kneaded the angel’s shoulder. He wasn’t proud of lying to their new accomplices either even if he wasn’t crazy about them. But what was happening tonight needed all their focus; no distractions. Seth and Richie’s supposed significance could wait at least another day; unless none of them survived what Willet had planned.

“Cass I don’t want the Armani boys to know just yet,” Dean confirmed grimly. “Not while we’re out there risking our asses to gank these freaks; we need everyone sharp tonight. So put it on ice until we finish this; got it?”

Castiel sighed disdainfully; rolling his eyes.

“Alright,” he acquiesced. “But when this is over we tell them.”

Dean’s forehead creased sardonically. “Sure, provided we even make it out alive.” The hunter cryptically tossed at the angel; slapping his shoulder before they broke off to their respective vehicles. 

After Dean climbed inside the cab turning on the ignition; the large metal threshold of the garage automatically rolled up revealing the setting sun. Identically, the impala and the cougar departed from the compound one after the other, heading up the dirt road towards the highway.  
________________________________________

South Valley, Albuquerque 7:40 pm…

…the Marigold Festival

Fireworks exploded over the city like multicolored sky flowers raining sparkles; lighting the world with pink, red, purple, yellow and orange. Some forming into shapes of skulls; indicating a sinister atmosphere lurking within the celebratory shenanigans. The streets were jam packed with cars and other sorted vehicles either side of the road as the festivities took place in the form of the Marigold parade; marching between a crowd of eager spectators. With barely any spaces left upon arriving, the Winchesters and the Geckos took to parking the impala and the cougar in the lot of a local high school. 

Stepping out of the vehicles onto the ebony pavement the six figures were welcomed by the chilling sounds of drums, cheers and traditional mariachi music just up ahead. Blinking owlishly Seth Gecko could just make out the decorative Calavera floats sweeping down the main street; with bright lights and dazzling colors resembling a moving mosaic. Turning to Richie, the Winchesters, and Castiel he noticed they were in awe of the eerie scenery as he was; the angel especially appeared dumbstruck. Just as the older Gecko brother was about to remark over what they were witnessing, some teenagers ran from the parking lot past them; laughing enthusiastically in their skeletal makeup as they disappeared into the crowd.

“Looks like Beetlejuice’s Homecoming party.” Seth deadpanned; earning him Richie’s cynical headshake. 

“Yah well if we don’t stop whatever Willet is assessing tonight,” Dean warned as the muscles in his face tightened. “This place is gonna become less Tim Burton friendly and more of a friggin Cronenberg bloodbath.” 

Mary Winchester’s whole body flinched at the remark.

“There are so many people out for the festival; like lambs to the slaughter,” she gloomily affirmed at the five men standing with her. “It could very well play into Willet’s advantage; wish we knew where and when he’s planning to make his move.”

“My gut says he’s going for the jugular; but he wants to be the main attraction,” Richie divulged hollowly; narrowing his eyes as he turned to his mortal sibling, the Winchesters and Castiel. 

“Glimpsing into Cross’s soul I got the impression Walker Texas Ranger’s a real showman; he thrives on fear. He’s gonna want to upstage Carpenter’s style of gory mayhem.”

“Cass what do you think?” Sam catechized at the trench-coated angel; brows kitting in a frown. 

Castiel stoically inclined his head; squinting his blue lapses eyes as the gothic setting trampled down the road. Something about this unusual celebration ignited his curiosity. Over the centuries the angel witnessed many different holiday customs; just recently he’d grown somewhat intrigued by Halloween, Christmas and Easter thanks to the Winchesters. He seemed a little lost by Day of the Dead; judging from his despondent facial expressions. Yet something else proficiently nudged at him. Castiel could feel a thick sinister presence engulfing the area like a black cloud had descended over the festival. Rubbernecking the skeleton figures and skull floats didn’t ease his suspicions.

“While I digress being fascinated by the whimsical elements of this particular dreary celebration,” the angel imparted. “I’m somewhat confused by a holiday surrounding the deceased which is depicted very…joyful; it’s almost morbid.” 

Castiel’s unusual response earned him five wide eyed expressions with gaping mouths; inability to speak. Switching gazes to the bravado hunter; he could see his friend was face-palming. Obviously this wasn’t the answer they were looking for from the angel.

“Ah Cass I don’t think that’s what Sammy was referring to.” Dean ridiculed his statuesque friend; scratching his hair. 

“Unless Clarence here is just wasting our time.” Seth barbed rolling his eyes; gesticulating at the angel.

“No, they’re here,” Castiel confessed solemnly; stepping forward between the Winchesters and the Geckos as if magnetized by an unknown force. Drawing up his outstretched hand, he closed his eyes for a second while an unsettling sensation washed over him. “I sense something malevolent; it wants to claim all these souls. And there’s more than one of them.” He shifted his absent blue eyes at Sam, Dean and Mary as his arm lowered. “We don’t have much time.”

“Then we split up the hunting party,” Mary suggested; scanning for the approval within her sons’ faces. “Search out Willet and Cross if they’re both here and if they’ve brought any company. We can take them by surprise that way.”

Seth arched a haughty brow at the woman. “Right because that always works out so fucking well doesn’t it Goldilocks.” 

Even the older Winchester brother’s contorting expression didn’t seem too enthusiastic about his mother’s plan.

“I’m gonna hate myself in the morning for saying this,” Dean grumbled reluctantly at Seth; noticing Sam’s disappointed gaze. “But I have to side with potty-mouth GQ on this one mom. It’s too dangerous to split up with the amount of freaks running around here.” The bravado hunter quickly fired a simpering look at Richie. “No offense Anne Rice.”

“Offense taken.” The vampire gibed at the Dean; scowling. 

“Wait Dean, mom may be onto something,” Sam interjected; kneading his brother’s shoulder. “We don’t know jack about what Willet is planning and most likely he’s not alone; you heard Cass.” Pausing for a second the taller hunter realized his older sibling seemed to be rethinking silently; just what Sam and Mary were hoping for. “Splitting up we have a better chance of stopping whatever he’s going to do to these people. And what about Cross’s zombie horde; if they reach the festival no one’s getting out alive.”

The bravado hunter let out a miffed sigh nodding, glancing at the Gecko brothers and Castiel. “They’re right; we gotta do this in teams. Can’t let the sons of bitches go Hungry Hippo on the locals; and somebody’s gotta gank The Corpse Bride.”

The older Gecko brother just rolled his eyes condescendingly.

“Brilliant plan Bravado,” Seth scolded sarcastically at Dean; crossing his arms. “And ah, what the fuck are we supposed to do if one of us gets cornered by these jackasses?”

“You and Count Snakeula got cellphones don’t you?” the hunter chided smart-aleck fishing out his cell and waving it in front of Seth. “We’ll call if anything comes up.” Then Dean pulled out the Marigold Festival flier scrunched in his pocket and directed the Geckos’ attention to a certain detail. “Look, it says the parade and festival are headed for the San Jose de Armijo Cemetery; we can regroup there.”

The Gecko brothers exchanged idle acquiesced expressions then Richie let out an exasperated huff but nodded.

“Okay then, Seth and I will team with McMillian and go after Evil Ernie.” The vampire shot a conniving glare at the bewildered angel; cracking his knuckles. “I still gotta a score to settle with ol’ maggot lips.”

Satisfied the older Gecko brother turned to Sam, Dean and Mary.

“You and BFG can take mommy dearest and seek out the Lone Ranger. But keep him alive so Richie can find out where the fucker is keeping our people,” Seth directed the Winchesters bossily; pulling out his glock from behind his suit jacket and cocking it. “Word of advice though boys; I’d gear up with those stake bullets if I was you. Trust me; you don’t wanna run into any snakes without ‘em not unless you wanna wake up in a body bag.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Dean proclaimed spryly at Seth as all six of them circled around to the trunks of their cars for extra weapons. He was still cringing over the profanity. “And you fellas better stick close to Cass. I don’t know how strong these Zimbabwe necromancer douchebags are but Cass’s angel juice could save your ass if you get in a jam.”

“Dean, I’m not a Swiss Army Knife.” The angel’s low raspy voice protested crustily behind him.

The bravado hunter sighed and spun around; clamping a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “I know that man but just…humor me would ya?”

The young culebra shook his head rancorously at the bravado hunter.

“Hey moron, its Xibalba not Zimbabwe,” Richie scorned saucily; arrogantly correcting the hunter as he fished out some guns. “They’re not from Africa dipshit.”

Dean threw up his hands sarcastically at the vampire. “Oh my mistake Chuckles; I didn’t realize I was in a friggin Social Studies course.” Digging out his Winchester Model 1887 Dean turned to the taller hunter standing beside the blond woman. “Sammy are we doing this crap or what?”

Sam nodded pursing his lips as he shoved weapons into one of the duffels they were taking along. Closing their trunks the six prepared to split off into two hunting groups.

“Mom, Dean and I will head in the direction of the cemetery.” Sam asserted the Geckos; slinging the heavy bag over his broad shoulder. “We’ll see you guys down there. If you find Cross, take him out quickly but be careful of the civilians.”

“We know that doofus; it’s not like we haven’t done this shit before.” Seth snorted defensively loading up his glock 34 with a fresh cartridge. Then he shot the Winchesters a crucial expression. “Just make sure you and Bravado here don’t get your fucking heads blown off; you still owe us remember.”

“How could I forget?” Dean sassed cheekily as he, Sam and Mary armed themselves; shuffling ahead opposite of Castiel and the Gecko brothers. 

“Alright,” Seth importuned briskly at the doe-eyed angel after watching the family of hunters disappear into the shadows; motioning with his gun clutched in one hand. “Lead the way Clarence.”

Castiel assiduously scanned the festivities of the Dia de los Muertos parade ahead of them; stoically stalked across the lot and grass towards the eerie disguised bystanders. The Geckos cautiously pursued the angel remaining subtle as they held their weapons out of view; checking for suspicious activity or unwanted party crashers. Things felt pretty innocent enough, however the nearer they got the more an impending dark energy seemed to encircle them like an invisible boa constricting its prey. 

“Was there an Alice Cooper contest I didn’t know about?” Seth babbled ogling the sea of skeleton mugs.

Richie released a disgruntled sigh. “They’re called Sugar Skulls brother or Calavera art to be exact; it’s a Mesoamerican tradition. An infusion of Aztec and European symbolism to commemorate Dia de los Muertos face painting designs; mixing Catholic beliefs with the religions of indigenous Mexican people. Obviously the most common face painted design is a skull.” He threw a smug look at his mortal sibling tailing behind him. “Again you’d know this if you’d even bothered to pick of a book.”

Seth scowled at the vampire acerbic. “Thank you Wikipedia for that insightful history lesson.”

Castiel’s gruff voice grumbled audibly.

“Pardon my intrusion on the familial bickering,” the angel bridled dimly at the Geckos. “But will you two knock it off already? We’re supposed to be hunting monsters not wasting energy on rock musicians and religious body art.” 

Exchanging baffled looks, the Geckos didn’t really know how to respond Castiel. So they shrugged and went back to skimming through the large assembly.

As they blended into the crowd of spectators, sticking out like sore thumbs; death seemed to have overtaken the city streets. Everywhere they looked a whimsical skeleton’s mug grinned back at them, the floats, the Calavera art hanging from lamp posts, the flags being carried around to the people socializing, marching down the road or marveling on the sidelines at the pretty florescent decorations, even the children; not one human face could be found in the bunch. It made Seth a little uneasy and somewhat claustrophobic. Perhaps being sandwiched between these people reminded him too much of that ghoulish Skull Keeper he and Richie had slain several months ago.

Some skeletons were dressed in casual wear while others like traditional bride and grooms; complete with black tuxes and top hats while the women were dressed in torn white wedding gowns carrying gothic red and black umbrellas. There were sugar skull suitors in sombreros; wearing embroidered detailed jackets printed with authentic Mexican motifs and attached ruffled sleeves. And also assort of sexy Senoritas in red sugar skull dresses with corset-inspired bodices, skull-print fabric, and flower detailing along their black lace veil headbands; reminding the Geckos of those bar floozies from one of their old western movies. An attractive skeletal maiden waved flirtatiously at Seth, who uneasily sunk inside of himself.

“I don’t like this Richard.” He bellowed under his breath beside his tall preternatural sibling; locking eyes with one rubbernecking skull-face after another. “Feels like I’m in a fucking Jack Skeleton fiesta and Elfman’s about to play the ode to our funeral.”

“Stay calm brother,” Richie averred at Seth as he and Castiel scoped out civilians for stragglers; expressionless much like his empty tone. “It’s like dogs and bees; they can smell fear. Just keep your shit together and we just might make it out of this.”

“Like ah, Eastwood & Burton’s Where Eagles Dare or your buddies in The Guns of Navorone huh.”

Richie shrugged sheepishly. 

“Hey almost all of them made it in that movie remember?” Then the vampire reminded Seth as he directed his brother’s frigid gaze towards Castiel. “Besides, none of the cool kids ever had a celestial being covering their asses; now did they?”

“I heard that.” The angel grumbled shaking his head; blue eyes wandering through the moving bodies. “Don’t you two have something more productive to do either than discussing Western cinema; for instance helping me to locate Maximillian Cross?”

“Yah, yah don’t keep your tie on too tight there Clarence,” Seth jibed cleverly as he and Richie followed Castiel along the sidewalk of skull civilians. “This is how we Geckos roll and I’m guessing you’re no stranger to human culture what with how pop savvy your X-file buddies seem to be.”

Blowing air out his cheeks, the stolid angel threw Seth a dry response.

“Sam and Dean’s way with words does tend to become a little tiresome at times,” Castiel admitted sedately; lowering his eyes for a second. “Before Metatron upgraded my knowledge of the world’s entertainment, I wasn’t exactly fond of chasing around such references.”

The Gecko brothers’ brows cocked upward sublimely. 

“Who’s Metatron?” Richie persisted vacantly. “You and the Scoobies battling evil Transformers now too?” 

“No,” Castiel responded stalely in a raspy tone; freezing in place then spinning around to face Seth and Richie. “Metatron was the name of another angel, the Scribe of God; who I didn’t particularly care for. He wasn’t some nostalgic cartoon robot disguised as a vehicle.”

The vampire’s forehead creased; crossing his arms. “So what’d this guy do exactly?”

“Metatron betrayed God, locked all angels out of Heaven, stole my grace so I was forced to become human, killed many innocents on earth; and he murdered Dean.”

Seth blinked as his mouth slightly curled derisively; clapping the angel’s arm. “Jesus, tell me how you really feel.”

This response had Castiel taken aback.

“I apologize,” the angel gently demurred at the Gecko brothers; face wearing his usual inscrutable expression. “The thing with Metatron is still a patronizing subject for me. Fortunately since his sacrifice I haven’t been wasting a single thought on him.” Staring back at the two young men in black suits, Castiel realized their expressions were dissecting his answer; as if they saw past the smokescreen. For a moment the angel felt exposed; wishing he’d been venting to the Winchesters instead. Quickly he changed the topic of discussion. “Anyway we should be getting back to hunting Cross.”

Seth gesticulated cockily at the angel; offering him to lead on. “After you Clarence.”

Castiel shifted his focus onto the skull themed crowd and led the Geckos up the sidewalk towards some orange and yellow carnival tents selling Day of the Dead trinkets and treats. Seth had to admit even though the angel was a little strange, no weirder than his socially awkward preternatural younger brother; he was kinda cool for a dork in a trench coat. On the trip down to South Valley; Castiel just kept preoccupied with his MP3, often making mild conversation when the situation called for it. Looking at him you wouldn’t have thought this guy was a powerful soldier of Heaven with how somewhat innocent, mild mannered and doe-eyed he was. Yet all the Gecko brothers had to do was rewind back to the moment at Sunset motel when the angel dispatched those zombies and nearly vaporized them.

How in the hell did these Winchester boys manage to BFF a celestial being? Seth pondered. Now that was the new million dollar question. 

While the three of them browsed the tents, Seth’s stomach rumbled; eyeballing all those delicious goodies was making his mouth water. But Castiel was fixated on the energies he was absorbing from people; concentrating on singling out that specific aura which had been giving him negative vibes upon arrival. Richie’s rhinestone blue eyes just wandered to the rack of sugar skull bracelets; touching one with his fingertips he immediately thought of Kate. If she weren’t being held hostage and world wasn’t about to be swallowed into the hell; the culebra would’ve liked taking her to this festival tonight. But such dreams were meaningless now.

Seth noticed his brother’s melancholy exterior standing before the jewelry rack; dismissing his hunger and shuffling away from the skull cookies towards Richie’s side. Somehow the older Gecko brother felt what the vampire was thinking; that Kate was tormenting his mind as she’d been since the Fullers’ abduction. And the guilt over what Seth had said to Richie earlier that day, about the possibility of the Fullers being dead, weighed on him. He knew how much pain this was causing his brother; how much he believed that Kate and Scott were still alive. It was the only thing that kept Richie from falling apart despite sleep deprivation and lack of nourishment. 

“She would’ve loved coming here; both of them,” Richie confessed airily; eyes glistening in the light as he plucked a bracelet hanging on stock. It was silver with miniature multicolored skulls and a black cross dangling in the middle. Then his lips twisted in a mirthful lopsided smile. “I can picture Kate’s face now; what she’d say about all this.”

“I know buddy,” Seth riposted, affectionately putting his hand between his preternatural sibling’s shoulder blades. “I miss her too, even the kid brother. But it’s like you said; Kate and Scott are alive out there somewhere.” Richie grimaced at him; rubbing the corners of his eyes with his index finger and thumb. “If they are, we’re gonna find ‘em and make every asshole who dared to mess with the Geckos fucking pay for this.”

“Yah.”

“Kate?” a raspier deep voice muttered behind the brothers; glancing back they hadn’t realized Castiel was listening in on their conversation. And the stoic angel slowly approached them. “Is that one of your people Gary Willet is holding captive?”

Seth and Richie exchanged despondent looks; turning back to the dubious angel. They weren’t willing to open that door of trust just yet; not until they knew all there was to know about the Winchesters and their allies.

“Just concern yourself with finding Cross,” the older Gecko brother deflected at Castiel, invading the angel’s space pointing his index finger at him. “Eyes on the prize; ya got that Clarence?”

Castiel narrowed his eyes at Seth inscrutably but didn’t pry any further. Richie meanwhile decided to purchase the bracelet.

“Hey,” The vampire somberly snapped his fingers at the skeleton cashier; pulling out his wallet for some cash. “I’ll take this one.”

“Si senor,” the tiller quickly rung up the total, then handed Richie his change after receiving some bills. “Mochas gracias.” 

“Gracias.” Richie awkwardly nodded back closing his wallet into his pocket; securing the bracelet inside his jacket. 

Seth didn’t have to guess his brother was buying that piece of jewelry for himself; it was obviously going to be a present for Kate if/whenever they found her and Scott. While Castiel drifted to Richie’s side, the older Gecko brother found his eyes infectiously darting around the florescent gothic scenery. A giant Calavera torso float raising its arms nearly touching the sky as it sailed down the road caught Seth. He was wearing a pin stripped black suit coat with red and orange marigold flowers framing the rim of his top hat and in his mouth was a cigar. Skeletal marching bands paraded after the skull float, pounding their drums and blowing their trombones; followed by skulls walking Calavera animal puppets, then another skeleton float pursued close behind them. 

This time it appeared as though the float’s arms were being controlled using long polls by some sugar skull puppeteers. Seth rubbed his eyes as he watched the huge brightly lit skeleton in the sombrero wave at onlookers; gliding along the street while mariachi music played. In the past Seth probably would’ve found this sort of thing slightly amusing; much like he used to enjoy Halloween as a kid. However because of the Gecko brothers’ knowledge of the supernatural, celebrations like this took on a whole other meaning for him. 

Seth was currently overcome with astriction; he couldn’t relax for more than ten minutes now because of the monsters. The older Gecko brother had to remain strictly on the alert in case something attempted to ambush him as it did back at the Titty Twister.

Suddenly as Seth lost himself in the seductiveness of the death mosaic, a strange masked figure stood out of the pack a few paces from him; gawking incessantly. Massaging the back of his neck Seth scowled wearily; what the hell was this guy’s problem? Without warning the figure lifted up the sugar skull mask revealing a familiar face of an oriental boy approximately sixteen; the older Gecko brother immediately recognized him. Scott. But it couldn’t be could it? The kid was Willet’s prisoner. Seth blinked abashedly, rubbing at his brown eyes with both hands like he’d seen a ghost or a mirage. Maybe it was exhaustion or hunger; something was making Seth see things because there was no way Scott Fuller was actually here…unless he managed to escape from Willet. And if the kid was here, could Kate be too?

“Scott?” Seth uttered cocking his head and narrowing his eyes.

But there was something off about Scott’s behavior; coming across very dour in expression like he couldn’t care less if Seth was even there. On his forehead displayed a black unfinished circle like the ones Richie had scribbled into his notebook. And the kid’s eyes though dark appeared to have no pupils or sheen; verging on hollow. This wasn’t right. However Seth felt compelled to travel in Scott’s direction; hoping for at least some sign that the kid wasn’t a pigment of his imagination. 

Just as the older Gecko brother got closer; the Fuller boy robotically twirled around and promenaded into the skeleton busy bodies. Seth continued the pursuit, pushing his way through people; unaware that he was moving further away from the tent that Richie and Castiel were standing at. For all he knew this could’ve been a trap or some mind trick the necromancers had cooked up; he wasn’t really thinking about it prioritized with chasing away a ghost. Another thing that struck a chord with Seth was that Scott was moving unusually fast; culebras were quick on foot but it was like the kid wasn’t in control of his actions. And in a matter of seconds Scott Fuller had disappeared leaving Seth in the lurch; scratching his head dumbfounded.

Blowing wind out his cheeks anxiously spinning in every direction of the festival searching for a clue to Scott’s whereabouts; Seth ran his fingers through his dark hair slicking it back. Where the hell did he go? It wasn’t like the culebra kid was some master illusionist. Before he had time to recover from the initial shock of seeing then losing Scott Fuller, a large hand clamped down on Seth’s shoulder startling him. To his relief it was only a confused Richie and Castiel.

“Jesus Christ Richard!” Seth barked; pressing his palm against his rapidly beating chest. “What are ya trying to do give me a fucking heart attack?!”

“You’re the one who took off on us dumbass.” The vampire scolded his mortal sibling; glaring disparagingly. “What the hell were you doing?”

“I just saw Scott.”

Richie’s eyebrow rose in disbelief while Castiel’s vacant expression puzzled. 

“What? Where?”

“Who’s Scott?” the angel inquired raspier toned.

“One of our people,” Seth quickly tossed at Castiel then focused back on his preternatural sibling. “And he was here!”

“You sure you weren’t seeing things brother?” the young culebra divulged skeptically; pushing his glasses up. “I mean it is a huge crowd. It could’ve been someone who just looked like him.” 

“It WAS Scott, I followed him Richie!” Seth snapped; a bitter line forming above his brow. “But something was wrong with him. He didn’t respond to me at all. And just before the kid went Houdini I noticed some kind of black splotch shit on his forehead, like the ones in your doodle book.”

The unfinished circle! Richie’s eyes immediately flung wide, slack-jawed, cynicism leaving his face; indicating to Seth that his brother’s next response wasn’t going to be exceptional.

“Damn it…he’s a drone.”  
________________________________________

North of the Geckos hunting party the Winchesters evasively shuffled through the tight festive masses; scanning for things out of the ordinary. Sam and Dean were pretty thorough with sharp instincts thanks to years of training through their father and Bobby Singer. They knew a monster when they saw one; a nagging in their gut never failed. However this time they were up against something they’d never encountered from a hell dimension unknown to them. At this point the only people the Winchesters could rely on were each other, maybe even the Gecko brothers and their closest allies. Sam could feel it though; the crap was about to hit the fan in a big way tonight.

Gimlet-eyed, Mary Winchester absorbed the exotic atmosphere of life imitating death. Sugar skulls of every design replaced a human face as she and the boys crammed through mingling hordes. Rubbernecking up close Mary could pin point the details and different patterns of each artistic skeletal complexion. Some had colorful beads encircling the dark of their eyes, others spider-webs, hearts or black crosses above their foreheads and chins. Women wore a variation of dresses, headbands with assort multi-colored marigold flowers; the male attendees were most seen in tuxes, casual wear, top hats or sombreros. 

As the Winchesters past a mother pushing a stroller with a red Calavera balloon tied to the handle, Dean noticed the child’s face was painted like a skull; it unsettled him.

“Aaaand we’ve stumbled into Jason Voorhees’s playground boils and ghouls.” Dean deadpanned flaring his nostrils indignantly as he, Sam and Mary froze in place on the sidewalk; giant skull and marigold floats passing them. “It’s a friggin freak show around here. I can practically smell the evil hoodoo crap coming a mile away.”

“This place is definitely where Willet can do some serious damage.” Sam grimaced at his older sibling; searching through the civilians and parade participants. “Dia de los Muertos is the celebration of the dead; perfect for bloodletting rituals and summoning doorways to the NetherRealm.” 

“Well he’s already succeeded in resurrecting one specimen already,” Mary affirmed bleakly to her boys; switching from one foot to the next. “Who, according to you two, is in the midst of building an army of zombies in Albuquerque. We can’t let those things reach these people; they wouldn’t have a chance.”

“Hey I’m open for any suggestions guys.” Dean insisted saucily; gesticulating. “I just wanna gank these sons of bitches before they stain this whole friggin neighborhood in entrails.”

Randomly a shiny black limousine appeared out of thin air which Sam immediately spotted. It wasn’t decorated in any such fashion that incorporated the festival; didn’t seem to be in a hurry as it dawdled alongside the swarm of people nor was it cruising into the parade. If anything the vehicle was an attention getter much like the Winchesters in their cargo jackets and washed out jeans, provoking the taller hunter to glare at the car suspiciously. 

“Any thoughts on that?” Sam ushered his family’s attention; extending his long arm out pointing to the limousine.

“Yah it’s a limo, so what?” Dean scoffed gruffly. “For all we know it could be Matt Damon out on a midnight joyride looking for directions to the nearest Halloween soiree.”

“Or it could be what we’ve been searching for. Dean it’s heading down the street towards San Jose de Armijo; why would a fancy limousine be doing that at this time of night?”

The bravado hunter lifted his shoulders in a half shrug rubbing the tip of his nose; wearing an unconvinced frown.

“Maybe it’s on the way to pay respects, Sammy I don’t friggin know.”

Sam’s brows bumped together as he let out a harsh breath through his nostrils; pursing his lips. “I already checked the obituaries Dean; there’s no funeral service happening tonight since the Marigold festival is taking place there after the parade finishes.”

“Are you suggesting we follow that limo?” Mary asked incredulously. 

“Yes,” Sam ticketed. “Mom we’re all supposed to meet up at the cemetery anyway. Let’s at least check it out.”

“And what if the Crypt-keeping douchebag is waiting for us with the rest of the Suicide Squad?” Dean shot back derisively; eyes serious. “It could be a trap. Don’t you think we should alert the B Team first before we rush in there blindly?”

A muscle in the taller hunter’s jaw twitched tensely but he couldn’t deny his brother was precise. They couldn’t very well jump into the pit without at least giving Castiel and their new accomplices a heads up. What if they might need them later? 

“I’ll call Cass and the Geckos once we figure out whose being transported in that car.” 

“Fine.” The bravado hunter acquiesced; prepared to make haste after his mother and taller sibling. “But you’re buying the next round of beer if this turns out to be a waste of our damn time.”

Mary showed signs of contentment with the plan but Dean discreetly sulked rolling his green eyes; however he was too tried to argue with his family. Following the black limousine could very well be a dead end or maybe Sam’s instincts were exact; they hadn’t discouraged him thus far. 

Bustling between mobs of sugar skulls, the Winchesters kept their eyes firmly glued on the license plate of the long black vehicle; drifting to one block after another. Right next to them was the parade carrying on in motion. Sam could see a group of authentic Mesoamerican dancers in head feathers and loincloths; shaking and shimming to the thunderous beat of the drums behind another magnificent ofrendas float. Children and parents clapped along; swaying as the music enriched their souls, causing Sam’s Adam’s apple to bobble anxiously and his eyes to glisten. Just the mere thought of these people being slaughtered on a night of celebration sickened the taller hunter. On repeat he told himself they had to do whatever it took to stop Willet; even if cost them their lives. 

Finally after all that inconspicuous walking, the Winchesters arrived at the outline of the front gate where the limousine was parking on a curve. It reminded Sam of a tall iron peace arch; stencil letters spelling out San Jose de Armijo Cemetery on top. And underneath the horizon of the title were gothic swirls; resembling a black wave of snail shells. Stone bookends decorated with the Virgin Mary’s image on one and Christ with a cross on the opposite; stood emulating two heavenly guardians. A bright orange glow lit the gateway from behind; shining the way for the festive participants; piling through the glorified threshold and up the black paved pathway.

Sam, Dean and Mary quickly made their selves scarce and watched as the doors of the limo swung open. First the driver got out, he was tall, bald and muscular in torn street clothes with tattoos covering both his biceps and then his partner in the front seat; lean, shorter than the driver with a bushy black mustache, leather jacket and long pony tail. Both of them wore unusual blank expressions reminding the Winchester brothers of the pod people from Invasion of the Body-Snatchers. Dean’s jaw unhinged, staring at the men with cow eyes; these two could easily pass for members of the infamous Hell’s Angels biker gang and they were definitely not here for a respectful funeral service. Stamped on their foreheads was a single black incomplete omega-like symbol. 

“Still think this lead is a bust Dean?” Sam ridiculed his brother; shooting him a contemptuous glance as they couched behind some empty parked cars. 

“Yah whatever bitch,” the bravado hunter derationed shaking his head; teasingly throwing a jab at the younger Winchester brother’s left shoulder. “Let’s just see what the Sons of Anarchy are up to.” 

“Wait, look!” Mary interrupted the brothers, jerking on Dean’s coat; pointing at the black imprints residing on the heads of both men. “Aren’t those the same unfinished circles from Gecko’s notebook? He said that was the symbol of the Xibalban necromancers’ covenant.”

Sam’s pupils dilated in an instant. How could he have forgotten all about that? If these men were part of Gary Willet’s posse then he was sure to attend the festival at some point. Maybe he was one of the passengers being transported.

“The Circle,” he disclosed; eyes widening as he inhaled then exhaled rapidly. “They’re already here.”

The gang members despondently strolled to the ends of the limousine; opening the doors in a gentlemen fashion for two more vacant eyed miscreants in piercings, leather and tattoos; then right after them appeared four mysterious figures in maroon hooded robes. From the looks of things the punks were functioning like human-sheaths to the druid passengers; perhaps they were more necromancers from Willet’s covenant. This was unexpected. Instead of hunting for one ranger and his undead minion they now had eight more headaches to worry about. Sam and his family’s nystagmus eyes watched as the hoods shuffled up the pathway through the gates in single file with the punks robotically escorting them.

Dean jutted his stubble chin; remembering something Richie had told him before they left the compound. “Hey didn’t Jake the Snake warn us that necromancers used culebras as bodyguards? Those must be their errand boys.” 

“Yes, which is why I came prepared with these,” Sam quickly fished out the stake bullet cartridges from the duffle slung on his shoulder; and tossed them to the bravado hunter and to their mother. “I figured we’d need them in case we ran into any crap along the way.” 

A smile dangled in the corner of Dean’s lips; reloading his Colt M1911A1. “Dude you’re awesome!” 

Once assertive that the hoods and their protection had moved far enough to suspect anything; the Winchesters ambled away from their position and lumbered through the gates mingling into the masses. Sam couldn’t help being awestruck with emotion by the lavish atmosphere of the ofrendas in the cemetery. It was like a garden of fire; candles lit every offering alter like thousands of fireflies dancing over graves. Tall willow trees grew around the headstones; branches caressing them with no more tenderness than a lover’s hand. And houses fenced around the radiant but dreary satire. Sugar skull cookies, family photos, flowers and Calavera figurines decorated each individual gravesite. Sam remembered these were the traditional peace offerings to commune the dead. 

Mary and Dean’s faces fell gazing at the praying families of deceased loved ones; if only these people had just a little time to properly mourn and celebrate before Willet disrupted it all with his insanity.

Using the unsuspecting civilians as their camouflage; the Winchesters lurked around the gravestones until they settled in a spot amongst a rapidly gathering skull mob. In the main square of the cemetery the four robes formed a circle as if they were about to perform a stunning feat; their stolid punk bodyguards froze in a perfect line separating the curious bystanders from the hoods; hands clasped in front of them. But there was something odd about this circle of druids; it felt incomplete to Sam. Probably because Willet hadn’t shown himself yet. That was when one of the maroon cloaked figures lifted his hood as he addressed the assembly.

“Oh bully its Bieber.” Dean groaned impudently; which earned him inscrutable stares from Sam and Mary.

The man was young with deshelled brown hair and alluring grey eyes which were complimented by the orange flame of the candles; a clean-cut millennial college kid yet he spoke with such an esteemed eloquence. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Stefan,” greeted the youthful druid; curtain sleeves swaying in the slight breeze as he folded his hands then spread out his arms imitating wings. “Our host shall be with us shortly to lead the traditional Dia de los Muertos festival prayer; but for now lay gaze upon our mystic congregation and surrender your souls to the night as we bless this consecrated ground beneath us.”

Next came the harmonious beating of the tribal drums enticing the air around the audience; causing the druids to suspend their arms breaking into an interpretive dance routine as they chanted in a decrepit language. Sam and Mary carefully studied the abnormal activity while Dean’s facial expression scrambled. He felt like he was at a Wiccan séance. The brownish fabric of the druids’ long burlap cloaks wavered gracefully, twisting their bodies and arms in opposite directions against the magnanimous rhythm of the primitive instruments; similar to performing an etude ballet sequence. Dean didn’t like this; his stomach was fluttering as if he’d swallowed a sonar system.

“Hey man,” the bravado hunter tapped a random civilian in skull face paint; standing in front. “What’s with the Friar Tuck dance number?”

The male bystander jerked his head in the direction of Dean. 

“Every year a new chairman is selected by the city for the Marigold Festival to administer the traditional Day of the Dead prayer.” He articulated at the willful hunter. “And they’re required to put together a piece of entertainment for the evening; music, dancing, magic tricks that sorta thing. This year some ranger Willet dude was chosen; he sure knows how to liven up a party huh.”

“If you’re into the Salem Witch Trials.” Dean scoffed under his breath.

Mary squinted at the man, folding her arms. “So these chairmen are selected at random? By who?” 

“I believe it’s all done through the mayor’s office.” The sugar skull replied; staring at the blond woman befuddled. “But I don’t know much further than that.”

Dean and Mary exchanged brooding looks then turned their attention back on the druids moving in a seamless coordination. If Willet was planning on making his move during the show they had to be prepared.

As the four hoods continued dancing to the drums, astounding the crowd, Sam’s jacket pocket began vibrating. Jamming his hand inside to fish out the device he’d read the caller ID: Seth Gecko. Wasting no time Sam puttered away and answered; pressing the receiver against his ear while his eyes firmly fixated on the display at hand.

“Hello?”

“Hey BFG it’s me,” Seth reverberated icily on the other end. About to say something specific until he quickly stopped mid-way. “Ah- where the fuck are you, a Hawaiian Luau?”

Of course Seth would notice the drumming. Who wouldn’t? 

Sighing, Sam rubbed at the astriction above his brow. “Not exactly; any luck on your end?”

“Cross was a no-go so we’re headed for the boneyard where you, Goldie and Bravado are stationed. But listen, Richie thinks these assholes brought along a few tag-team partners tonight so be on the lookout.”

Sam etched swallowing hard as his breath quickened. “Yah we know.”

“What?”

“The necromancers are here.” Sam sputtered agitatedly running his fingers through his long hair; nostrils flared. He could hear the indistinct voices of Richie and Castiel in the background. 

“Dean and I followed these druids to the cemetery; we think their bodyguards are culebras, they’re imprinted with duplicate unfinished circles on their foreheads.”

A throaty bellow escaped into the receiver; the taller hunter knew instantly the older Gecko brother didn’t want that information. “Damn it! How many of them are there?”

“As of right now; four guards and four of them.”

“Alright keep your eyes peeled Gigantor,” Seth warned idly with a chided attitude. “Could be more of the snake brigade hidden in plain sight; just be cool and try not to make any sudden moves until we get there.”

The taller hunter inhaled sharply with his lips primed; steadying his heart rate. 

“Good to know. But ah, you guys might wanna Thomas Engine your asses down here because I think Willet’s planning on killing all these people.”  
Sam closed the cell back into his pocket and returned to Dean and Mary; who shot him a couple inquiring faces.

“Who was that?” his mother pried.

“Backup’s coming.” Sam announced; cheeks throbbing.

“Bout time.” Dean scorned prickly; clapping his hands together. “I’m looking forward to sending these Underworld asshats straight to purgatory.”

Dancing proceeded until the whimsical energy of the routine took a sinister approach. Each of the druids reached into the droopy sleeves of their cloak, pulling out an identical tribal dagger. Spinning the knives on their fingers then tossing them in midair and catching them with quick reflexes; the hooded figures carefully positioned the sharp blades over their palms and slit it across the middle with ease. Sam, Dean and Mary’s expressions became crimson. Surprised shrieks ignited the assembly as the druids traipsed in a playful circle; sprinkling the guzzling blood from their wounded hands on the grass. Mimicking the old Ring around the Rosy nursery rhyme; sending shivers down Mary Winchester’s spine.

Instantly the dancing hoods collapsed to the ground; disappearing into a cloud of grey smoke erupting from the center of their formed ring. People gasped, and then as it cleared away Sam could see another shape through the thick billowy veil; a pale old hombre in his fifties riding horseback wearing a black cowboy hat and jacket. A matching description fitting Lenny Baker’s statement and Richie Gecko’s pencil drawing. Gary Willet. His chestnut stallion reared on its hunches while the crowd cheered clapping but the Winchesters just threw an ire expression at the man. 

“Who’s grandpa Lightening Jack?” quipped Dean between Sam and Mary; bobbing his head as he gawked at the hombre.

“Willet.” Richie growled; startling the bravado hunter as he spontaneously popped up next to the Winchesters with Seth and Castiel. That was fast. “I’m gonna tear that son of bitch’s head off.”

“Okay, okay down boy.” Seth deadpanned; hands on his brother’s arm as if he were restraining a hungry pit bull. “Save it until we get the Preacher’s offspring back, alright? After that I don’t care what the fuck you do.” 

Mary averted her eyes with a crooked grin, voice cold yet still made an effort at comradery. “Nice of you to finally join us gentlemen.”

Seth shot her a clever wink. “Likewise Goldie.”

“Jeez!” snapped the older Winchester brother crustily at the tall young man in the glasses and his shorter tattooed sibling; expression morphing from surprise to annoyance. “I just about jumped out of my friggin skin. Dude, don’t do that!”

The vampire ignored Dean; glaring venomously at the cowboy waving his hat at the audience. But Seth couldn’t resist the urge to gibe at the hunter with a snide remark.

“What’s wrong Bravado you’re looking a little peaked.” He chortled cockily. “I would’ve thought this be a typical day at the office for you Winchesters; what with all the shit you and the giant Ghost-Bust on a daily basis.”

Dean fired Seth the stink eye. “Shut up.”

“How’d you guys get here so fast anyway?” Sam interjected quizzically. 

Richie didn’t take his eyes off Willet; responding the tall hunter in a hollow but petulant voice. “We drove.” 

“Went back for our car,” Seth added; jingling his keys to the cougar. “I figured in case things go to shit we might need a quick exit or the extra guns. If it’s not Dawn of the Dead and Xibalban necromancers we gotta worry about its fucking snake drones.”

Before Dean had the chance to process over the very idea of his Baby sitting alone back at the school; Castiel stalely jumped in. And it was not a confession neither Sam nor Mary expected to hear.

“I would’ve driven the impala Dean, had you remembered to make me that extra set of keys you promised last year.” The docile angel mumbled raspy; scratching his hair. “Otherwise I could’ve just hotwired it down here.”

“Cass…DO NOT ever!” the hunter seethed, shoving his index finger in front of the angel; serious eyed. “Okay? Not ever.”

“Alright.”

Sam’s face contorted disparagingly at his older sibling; absolutely stunned. He couldn’t believe Dean would do something like that being so overprotective of the car let alone never thought to even mention it once in all this time. It was unlike him. Seth just chuckled in his throat; thinking uh oh another sibling squabble on the rise?

“Wait hold on, you were actually gonna make Cass another set of keys to our car?” 

Dean’s gassy-infant look gave him away as he evaded Sam’s critical gaze; struggling internally for an excuse. 

“Yah for emergencies.” Sam was slack-jawed wearing a what-the-hell face but his brother cut him off. “Ah don’t give me that look Sammy; I always let you drive Baby. You can bitch at me later; now’s not really the time or the place to be arguing about this crap.”

“I would have to incline with you on that Dean.” Castiel stoically concurred as the six of them watched the ranger steer the horse to a taller tombstone; climbing off the saddle and then making his way back to the circle where the druids had been previously. “That man is a deviant threat; I’ve been overwhelmed with an influx of negative energies since arriving here.”

“Well slam on the brakes Cass, cause we need to see what this douchebag is up to first.” the bravado hunter avouched.

“Friends, gentlemen and sweet ladies…welcome to Dia de los Muertos.” The gravelly voiced but charismatic old hombre greeted the crowd of anticipating sugar skulls; earning himself another round of applause. Okay Sam had to admit this guy was pretty impressive. “I am Ranger Gary Willet and I was personally handpicked to be your gracious host for this tremendous evenin’.”

More claps then the old hombre raised his right leather gloved hand to silence them; shuffling upon the grass from one end of the gaping bystanders to the other. 

“Now ordinarily I would be recitin’ that there traditional prayer of yourn…however since it bein’ a special night, the heavenly father will simply have to sit out this hoedown. For I have prepared somethin’ a lil’ more pizzazz.” The Winchesters and the Geckos watched with vial detest as the hombre plucked a young woman from the crowd and pulled her with him to face the front. Irked, Dean nearly rushed in there until Sam and Mary caught him by the arms. Gently Willet kissed the girl’s hand then tenderly brushed her dark hair behind her ear. “What is your name precious?”

“Sally.”

Willet grinned devilishly. “Sally…tell me darlin’; what would ya give just to see that ol’ man of yourn again? Ma spirits are tellin’ me about that…tragic car wreck…all them things left unsaid; the pain swimming in that fragile gaze. I could give back what death has taken from you.”

Sally swallowed hard; trembling under the old hombre’s grasp. Sam and Dean feared this girl actually believed his lies. She bit down on her lower lip then wistfully stared into Willet’s dark predatory eyes; wrapping her right arm around the left.

“Y-you can really do that?” her shaky voice was pleading.

The old hombre smirked slyly at the girl; softly stroking her cheek. “Trust me sugar, I am death’s very own commander n chief. Reunitin’ lost loved ones is ma very intention. He’s goin’ be with ya real soon.” In gentlemen fashion Willet escorted the tearful Sally to her mother waiting in the mob and spun around animatedly clasping his hands together like a mad scientist. “Now before we giddy-up on in this undead rodeo, I’d like to personally address some stray cattle cashed up in the bunch.” 

Immediately the Winchesters and the Geckos jaws dropped; exchanging distraught looks as their hearts pounded wildly. Sam’s stomach was tying in knots. It felt like an unexpected spotlight shone on them. Willet knew they were there; he was probably powerful enough to anticipate what they’d intended to do. He wouldn’t have the balls to discreetly call them all out otherwise. This wasn’t good. If the old hombre got the jump on them like this there was no telling what he had planned for later. The man was unpredictable.

“I understand very well some ya’ll not wantin’ me to grant happiness to these simple kindly folk,” the old hombre sneered; tone poisonous as a rattlesnake in the desert. “I know what yourn thinkin’; how much ya want me six feet under the ground. But you best not be disrutpin’ this here fandango; otherwise the canon in my holster will have ya belly up before the rooster crows. Or the alternative...gettin’ past ma hordes of dead.” 

Everyone was stunned to silence including the six unlikely heroes. Normally this would’ve been the moment where they’d slay the beast before it attacked…but not this time. A deep sensation of fear creeped into the Winchesters; even Dean’s face appeared defeated. Sam glanced over at the Gecko brothers; Richie was seething, lips curled in a snarl and Seth seemed to be debating internally on whether or not he wanted to dig for his glock. Castiel and Mary were both sullen-eyed and alert. No one out of the group had a particular idea on how to tackle this guy because they didn’t know enough about Xibalban necromancers. Shit. 

When it looked as though the old hombre lacked any more surprises up his sleeve; he took out a tribal knife from the pouch of his holster. A derisive quirk tugged his lips as he examined the blade; the devil marveling his own reflection. Removing one of his leather gloves; thoroughly he used the tip of knife to dig under his finger nails which only made the crowd nervous.

“Saddle up there partner, it goin’ be a storm ya’ll cain’t fight.” Willet’s gravelly tone hissed cunningly; placing the blade against the surface of his palm and cut. Repeating what the four druids had done, the old hombre sprinkled the ground with his blood; gradually turning away from the audience then strolled up the hill. “Ain’t nothin’ gonna stop the blazing pit from ascendin’ beyond the depths of fire and blood. I will be Xibalba’s big bug on this dirty plain…and ya’ll yellow backs will kneel before ma snake hide boots.”

People in the crowd shuddered and gaped; goggling at the old cowboy. Throwing his head back, Willet let out a sadistic cackle; digging fingers into his chest pocket and pulling out a shimmering ancient tribal bobble with a black stone encrusted in the middle dangling off a silver chain. And the amulet began to glow bright scarlet. Sam jerked his head towards the Geckos who were synchronously shell-shocked; wide-eyed like they recognized the necklace.

Richie puckered his brows dumbfounded. “Son of a bitch, isn’t that-

“No fucking way.” Seth belched; cutting off his brother’s reaction. “How the hell’d he get that?!

“What is it?” Dean tilted his head with narrowed eyes; turning to Seth and Richie.

“It’s Amaru’s amulet.” explained the vampire gnashing his teeth; face flushed patchy red blotches as he squeezed his fists. “She was a demon queen of Xibalba who possessed Kate for nearly a year; trying to suck the world into hell. Seth and I wasted the crazy bitch five months ago.”

“Amaru?” Mary inquired as one brow shot up; exchanging a quick glance with Richie. “What’s the amulet supposed to do?”

Richie’s jaw twitched; shrugging apathetically. “Not sure. I always thought it was just a cheesy fashion statement.” 

Seth’s emotions were a mixture of frigid and bitterness; shaking his head.

“And somehow Jesse James senior here managed to trophy her psychotic majesty’s crown jewel from the rockslide.” The older Gecko brother jabbed biliously; gesturing at the amulet. “But I thought that fucking thing was destroyed after we iced the queen.” 

“Doesn’t seem like it was.” Sam articulated sarcastically; heart pounding in his chest as he kneaded on his older sibling. “Otherwise Cowboy BeeBop wouldn’t be holding the costume jewelry in his hand.”

“So what the friggin hell are we supposed to do now?” Dean griped brashly; going for his gun tucked away underneath his jacket. Then his attention darted on Castiel; who’d promptly walked forward through the masses, glaring solidly at the hombre. “Cass?”

“We need to get these people out of here,” the angel rasped dourly in his deep baritone; unusually textured with apprehensiveness. Spinning around to the Winchesters and the Geckos they could see his blue lapses eyes were sheened with direness. “Immediately!”

Before the six had time to react; Willet’s coal eyes shifted into flaming saucers as he clutched the amulet in his wounded fist and plunged it into to the earth with excessive force. Creating an unsettling turbulence which shook the gravestones in the cemetery; bodies of shrieking sugar skull civilians wobbled uncontrollably as they held onto one another. Sam and Dean couldn’t keep their balance any more than Seth and Richie, hanging off the tall tombstones for support. But when the tremors settled they weren’t out of the woods yet. One by one decayed hands began sprouting instantaneously from the loose soil like rotten potato bushes; followed by senseless screaming.

Dean’s perplexed eyes rolled skyward; as the Winchesters and the Gecko brothers drew their guns. “Oh crap!”

“Everyone better have their fucking balls screwed on tight.” Seth riposted; panic-stricken cocking his glock witnessing hordes of zombies digging themselves out of their graves. “Cause Hell just came to collect.”  
________________________________________

Night unleashed its true horror. Yet while festival attendees were fighting for their lives at San Jose de Armijo Cemetery; blocks away at the local South Valley high school some teenage kids had strayed from the pack to fool around in the back of a truck; just as the parade was finishing. 

Nick Ramirez was normally a good kid; got good grades, captain of the football team and tonight he was supposed to be in the parade with his other teammates. But for some reason he’d let his cheerleader girlfriend Jasmine Pearce convince him into skipping the event so they could be alone together for a while; doing things their parents didn’t approve of. Day of the Dead was the perfect scapegoat for Nick and Jasmine; dressed up as sugar skulls like all the other spectators in order to blend in. Once they were cleared, the two teenagers had snuck off to shack up in his black Ford to make out.

Jasmine wasn’t really a fan of getting physical in the cargo compartment of the truck with Nick; it was hot enough outside as it was and the paint on her face was starting to melt off. Every time he smothered her lips with his; the black and white skeletal teeth design of her makeup smudged. Regardless of the heat and clunky metal surface of the Ford’s trunk, the couple was passionately in sync with one another. 

“Ow! Baby be careful something scratched me,” Jasmine squealed; disengaging from Nick’s mouth when her back accidently scraped up against sharp claws of a rake. Damn it! The quarterback knew he should’ve thrown that stupid gardening tool in the shed before he left the house. “Why the hell is this thing even in here?”

Nick was lying on top of the cheerleader who wasn’t exactly comfortable and now she most likely punctured her flesh. Luckily Jasmine didn’t seem to hold it against him as he checked the skin between her shoulder blades. Whew! No serious damage. It was a little red mark but she was fine. Shaking off the burning sensation Jasmine smirked at her boyfriend as he moved the rake away from her body.

“Sorry,” Nick stammered; running his fingers through his dark hair embarrassed. “My dad threw some garden chores at me this morning; guess I forgot to put the stuff in the shed.”

Jasmine wrapped her skinny arms around his neck; coaxing him into the intimate state they were in previously.

“I’d forgive you more if it wasn’t for this damn heat. I’m sweating my costume off Nick. And the trunk’s rippled surface is digging into my back.”

That’s when the quarterback had an idea; grinning cleverly. “Then how about we try this?” Jasmine released a playful shriek of laughter as he smoothly reversed their positions; sliding underneath and moved her on top of his chest. Cheerleader’s face was enamored; the teen football captain had scored a touchdown. “Better?”

“Much better.” Jasmine smiled attacking his lips with hers; his arms running up the small of her back. For some reason though Nick’s heart wasn’t completely in it tonight; pulling away from his beguiled girlfriend. “What, what’s the matter?”

The quarterback released a miffed sigh; rubbing the stress mingled with sweat off his face. 

“Nothing it’s just…I know the team’s gonna nark on me for ditching the parade. I made a commitment to them after all.”  
Jasmine’s upper lip tightened.

“Babe we hardly ever get a minute alone together. You’re always at practice; I’m with the girls in the squad. And between our overprotective parents I’m afraid they’ll make us wait until our wedding day before we’re ever intimate.” She sulked; brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Tonight was perfect…don’t spoil it now.” The teenage girl wheeled sly eyed; palm of her hand pressed against his chest as she leaned forward to kiss him again. “Be honest where would you rather be? Out there with a bunch of strangers in costumes…or here with me?”

But Nick wasn’t baiting. “Common Jas that’s not fair. I love you but I care about the guys. I’m captain and quarterback; people expect me to show up at events like this. The least I could’ve done was walk in the parade to support my team.” 

“So…there’s isn’t anything I can do to convince you otherwise?” 

Nick evaded her gaze. 

“I don’t know…”

Jasmine’s fingers twiddled the red thread of her black corset and yanked until it’d come undone. The cheerleader was now clad in a black bra with the top half of her sugar skull dress tossed to the side of the trunk. A wide simper plastered across the teenage boy’s face.

“How about now?” she winked coyly at her boyfriend.

“Yah I think I can work with this.” Nick uttered; gaze dipping to her décolletage. He kissed his girlfriend passionately holding her face; occasionally listening to the music in the background as the parade went on. At first it was joyous then it instantly died down provoking his ear to twitch; picking up what sounded like unintelligible bloodcurdling screams and shouts. Quickly the teenage boy pulled away. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Jasmine groaned impatiently as he shushed her. This was the third time Nick had ruined the moment. “I didn’t hear anything.”

“Shhh listen, sounds like people screaming.”

The couple fell silent for a moment; sure enough the cheerleader could hear the ruckus. Unlike her boyfriend though, she simply shrugged it off as being some sort of Day of the Dead stunt. Usually the parade did a special grand finale; they were probably going all out on the scares that night.

“Babe, are you serious?” she shot him a derisive glare. Nick remained distracted by the shrieking voices. “It’s the first day of Dia de los Muertos and Halloween; of course people are screaming. It’s probably some cheap gag like they do every year.”

Nick grimaced at Jasmine; forehead creasing. “You sure?”

“Yah trust me.” She smothered his mouth with her lips. 

Kissing deeper, the quarterback could hear the screams intensifying; legit fear. And they were growing closer. He couldn’t relax; it was only irritating Jasmine. 

“BANG! BANG! What sounded like gunshots exploded in the distance had Nick drawn back from Jasmine’s lips; scanning their surroundings like a nervous deer in the headlights.

“I just heard shooting. Don’t tell me that was a gag too.”

The cheerleader slapped her forehead; pinching the bridge of her nose. “How do you even know those are gunshots?” she scrutinized him. “Baby that could’ve been anything; firecrackers I don’t know. Now would you shut up and kiss me already?”

He reluctantly obliged.

Instantaneously two people jetted past the truck; shouting in terror which prompt Nick to push his girlfriend back and pop his head up. Jasmine just glared at him sourly and shifted her eyes at the two people running for their lives until the shadows engulfed their frames.

“What the hell was that all about?” Nick exclaimed; his hands still gripping his girlfriend’s shoulders.

“Calm down it’s just some morons trying to scare us. Not funny assholes!” the cheerleader shouted bitterly after the runners; streaking her hands through her long midnight hair. Obviously she’d counterfeited it was a lousy Halloween or Day of the Dead prank. At least that’s what Jasmine kept telling herself as she was becoming nervous. “God what’s wrong with people?”

“I don’t know Jas; they looked like they were scared shitless. Maybe we should just call it a night, huh?”

Jasmine narrowed her eyes at the quarterback; slightly tilting her head. 

“Nick, are you seriously going to let a few dipshits spoil the rest of our evening?” she soughed at him; pressing her index finger to his mouth. “People are going overboard this year for the parade’s finale. Forget what they’re doing and focus on us babe. Now where were we?”

Nick rolled his eyes; slowly shrinking back down into the trunk. If it was gonna shut her up he might as well play along. He really didn’t want to be out this late; the screaming and shooting in the distance wasn’t helping. Best he just do as she suggested; put it out of his mind.

“Yah maybe you’re right.”

“Of course I am.” Giggled the cheerleader; straddling his hips as she bent forward kissing his mouth, their tongues overlapping one another.

Nick traced his fingers up his girlfriend’s spine and pulled her into him. He wanted more of her tropical flavored lips. Closing his eyes he felt Jasmine slightly break away so she could undo the back of her bra. Waiting, the quarterback suddenly felt two cold droplets fall against the skin of his forehead. Rain? No it couldn’t be; the weather forecast said it was going to be hot all week. And it felt surprisingly thick to be water. 

“Ah, Jas I think your makeup’s dripping on me.” Nick grumble as he proceeded to wipe it away. But when he opened his eyes Jasmine’s expression was ghostly white; chest rapidly heaving. Looking down at his hand, used to clean off the cheerleader’s runny make up, it was covered in a black sticky substance. “The hell?” Putting it to his nose to sniff; realizing what it was… Blood…

More black droplets trickled on the white shirt of Nick’s costume. Heart pounding both the quarterback and his girlfriend followed the source with their eyes; coming face to face with a boy their age wearing a tarnished red hoodie. He was lanky but tall and his face appeared to be shredded; exposing the muscle tendon and bone of his jaw. The boy’s skin was ash colored and oily; with blue spider veins going down his forehead and neck. Vacant eyes glazed white like twin moons peeking through glass windows. Trailing down to his stomach region the couple could see his guts had been ripped out. Dangling from the corner of what use to be this boy’s mouth were globs of thick black goo; same as the drops on quarterback’s shirt.

Nick and Jasmine froze in terror realizing this creature wasn’t alone; the trunk was swarming with other people mutilated similarly. Same hollow ivory irises, same ashen skin tone with spider veins. Blood was oozing from their mouths; the cheerleader could barely breathe while staring into the cold dead eyes of one hideous figure after another. The despondent look in these people’s eyes was pure hunger. Trapped. No matter which way they looked for an exit, all sides of the truck were occupied by the multiplying monsters; snarling and gurgling. 

Nick and Jasmine wide-eyed, jaws dropping into petrified wails as the creatures seamlessly lunged at them; diving into the compartment like a pack of ravenous wolves.  
________________________________________

BANG! Dean Winchester’s Colt M1911A1 pierced the air creating a successful exit wound through a decomposing aberration’s ugly gaze; his expression hardened, void of emotion as its immobilized body collapsed to the ground. He’d managed to save two young sugar skull senoritas from a Lurch type zombie in a ruffled white shirt he’d named “Big Daddy”. Cocking his gun, the hunter skidded under Sam’s arm; preparing to take aim at another batch of zombies to his left. 

“Sam, look out!” Dean hollered over his shoulder at his taller sibling; being accosted by a growling shriveled female corpse in an orange patterned poncho with its lower jaw nearly hanging off. 

Before the thing’s teeth reached Sam’s neck, Castiel’s angel blade lodged through the dead woman’s mouth from the back of her head; spitting globs of black tar at the tall hunter. Yanking the weapon out, its lifeless body plopped onto the grass; he turned to Sam who was more than gracious for the assistance.

“Thanks Cass.” The younger Winchester heavily breathed.

“Thank me later,” Castiel clipped rigorously; baritone severe as he spun around to jab another creature through the face with his blade. “Right now I’m more concerned with ridding this burial site of these incessant abominations.” 

From every direction the group was wading in a sea of dead resembling crumbling mausoleum mummies and skeletons freshly summoned from the earth; their clothes deteriorating. Hungrily they shambled around the small fighting force like a swarm of vicious hornets. Sugar Skull people were howling and running as if a frantic herd of wildebeests; only a few boldly pitched in the fight, grabbing whatever they could find to protect themselves. Others were too conflicted over the resurrection of their dead loved ones and ended up ripped to pieces. 

Snarling and groaning rotten corpses with empty eye sockets; dirt and mud falling over their funeral attire shuffled diagonally in pursuit of the scrambling civilians. The Winchesters were preoccupied dropping creatures via shooting them precisely and knifing them through the brain; often taking cover behind gravestones if they got too overwhelmed. Castiel’s eyes were glowing sapphires; smiting or using his angel blade. Richie Gecko’s nostrils flared like a pent-up bull charging his whole body into the monsters and firing bullets from the barrel of his Taurus; exchanging brooding glances with his mortal sibling who’d easily read his thoughts at that moment. 

“You thinking what I’m thinking brother?”

Seth nodded darkly; clicking his glock. “The Twister; let’s do this shit.”

Gripping hands as they crooked their arms forming an impenetrable chain-link; Seth hurled Richie’s massive body over his shoulder allowing the vampire to deliver an impressive midair spin-kick that completely decimated a skull of a corpse upon impact. Released from his brother’s hand, Richie shifted to his right; landing another swift double kick into another monster’s chest, sending it flying into one of the ofrendas smashing the display. The zombie screeched when it caught fire from the candles; dropping as the flames engulfed it. This poured a cheeky simper across the younger Gecko brother’s lips. It felt good to get a decent spot of action again.

“Nice one buddy.” Seth patted his preternatural sibling’s arm before resuming gunfire.

Richie’s head ticked sideways; voice nonchalant. “Like I said…just flipping the burgers.” Quickly he snatched a zombie, grabbing for a young couple trapped inside an offering alter, by its rotten head; digging his fingers into its ash layered flesh, breaking its neck with no more force than snapping a tree branch.

Following the rescue the couple hurried away from the vampire without uttering so much as a “thanks” which normally would’ve gotten under his skin. However this time Richie shrugged it off and went back to killing as many dead things as possible.

“Ah, a little help over here guys!” Mary pipped as she and her sons were shooting and clobbering the undead assailants tightly encircling them. “It’s a dead man’s party over here!” 

Zeroing in on the family of hunters, the Geckos soon realized majority of the corpses were plowing towards their positions; like magnets. That’s strange. It was as if these things were purposely targeting the Winchesters over everyone else; except for civilians. Willet had a hand in this; they were certain of it. Armed with their Glock 34 and Taurus PT99 reloaded and unlocked Seth and Richie mercilessly darted forward, jumping over tombs, firing bullets; shredding through flaky crumbling flesh. The more bodies disposed the better. At least this way the Geckos could hold off the hordes on the Winchesters long enough for a plan to come into fruition; or until they ran out of ammunition. 

“There’s too many of them!” Sam croaked intermittently; shooting through three hideously decayed creatures; back to back with his mother and older sibling, and then turning his attention to another set of zombies quickly staggering towards them. “And we’re wasting time and ammo. We gotta clear a path for these people and stop Willet before we lose him!”

“Yah and how do ya propose we do that?” Seth chided exasperatingly in the background; brawling and shooting simultaneously alongside his taller sibling in glasses. “I’m not a fucking bulldozer BFG and there’s hundreds of these dead ass-wipes trying to eat us out here; so unless you gotta backup scheme under that thick hair of yours we’re sitting ducks.”

Sam threw a sullen expression at the tattoo suited Gecko.

“Hey Thelma, Louise,” Dean barked at Sam and Seth; jabbing his elbow into the skull of a zombie in a tux and reloading his colt. “Less yacking and more ganking.” 

Taken aback, Seth tossed the shorter hunter a prickly deadpan response. “What you gotta plan or something Bravado?” He shot two more undead assailants point blank. “That’s terrific, we’re all ears.”

The older Winchester brother just shrugged apathetically. “Ah, I’m working on it.” 

Unhesitant Dean dodged a set of chomping skeletal teeth belonging to what reminded him of a butler type in a penguin suit. Great, he thought, so where’s Batman? Fishing for his hunting knife and maneuvering opposite of the grotesque monster drooling black tar; the older Winchester brother did a sweep with his legs under the creature and plunged his weapon into the varmint’s cataracts eye. 

“Nighty night Alfred.” Quipped Dean cunningly; drawing back his weapon then repeated the same tactic on mummified being lunging from behind.

Meanwhile Richie, Seth and Castiel were opposite sides of the Winchesters; using effective melee and hand-to-hand combos in between switching out pistol cartridges. Fortunately being undead himself, the younger Gecko brother had a slight advantage over his mortal companions similar to the angel; zombies preferred the flesh of the living. And since neither Richie nor Castiel were technically alive they were the odd ones out in the group; thus making them almost immune from the threat. The vampire threw some hard punches and kicks; sniping out stragglers in the distance with his trusty Taurus. He knew that jaguar demon’s skills would come in handy; case in point when he’d beaten Zolo twice in a fight.

“Everybody spread out!” Richie bellowed irately; his adrenaline surging as he shot two more zombies in the face followed by a swift roundhouse-kick to jaw. “Don’t let these assholes corner you! I can only protect one fragile human at a time here.”

Sam’s expression was appalled, Adam’s apple bobbling anxiously; tossing the vampire a derisive remark. “You do know that some of us are sorta busy trying to not to actually die right?” Shoving another creature into a gravestone and shooting it in the head. “Just curious.”

“You really wanna argue while we’re in this shit Rapunzel?!” the vampire sneered gloweringly at the hunter.

“What I want is to live past tonight and not get jacked by legions of the undead. Beyond that…” he shrugged impassively. “It can be left up to the imagination. You’re immortal; the last thing you have to worry about is picking out a friggin casket.”

Castiel, eyes ablaze, came thundering in to Mary’s aid when her hair got grabbed by decaying hands. Using his glowing outstretched arm he urged the others to cover their eyes; blasting a whole horde of thirty corpses at once. The commotion stunned both the Winchesters and the Geckos. It had nearly slipped their recollection that he was such a celestial powerhouse. And they couldn’t be more relieved to have a sufficient weapon at their disposal in a potential zombie apocalypse crisis. A tainted fantasy that Dean was very much regretting at the exact moment he avoided becoming the main course.

Currently the heroes were outnumbered; seeking refuge at one of the larger offering alters structured like the top half of a church bell tower. Littered with candles, orange marigolds sitting in white vases lined on both sides of the gravesite; fenced off with iron bars. Seth and Richie felt like caged animals in a zoo.

“More aberrations are coming through those gates,” the angel issued the groups’ attention toward the peace arch; maintaining his unusual but gruff composure. “I can slow them down but not from here; I’ll have to do it at the main entrance. And I can lead the rest of these people to safe passage.” His eyelids lowered somberly as he faced Sam, Dean and Mary. This didn’t sound good. “But if I do that I won’t be able to help fend off the ones still trapped within these barriers; and you’ll have to escape on your own merits once you have Willet.”

The hunter family exchanged disgruntled expressions but figured there weren’t enough minutes to bat around alternatives. More of those creatures were coming and pretty soon this place was gonna be a bloodbath as they multiplied through victims they’d killed or wounded severely.

“Go do what you gotta do Cass.” Dean encouraged heavily; evading a zombie’s grasp, firing a clean shot through its forehead then pointing at the Gecko brothers. “We can hold off the fort with the Goon Squad while you go Age of Ultron on those clowns.”

Inclining his head to the side, the usually calm angel’s exterior was staring at the bravado hunter gloomily. 

“Dean I’m beginning to wonder if your entirety human language is built on a foundation of solely nostalgic cinema catch-phrases and references.” 

Dean only rolled his eyes skyward.

Typical fashion Richie blinked at bravado hunter’s remark. “Whoa who are you calling ‘goons’ Charlton Heston?” gouging a mummified corpse’s skull with his Xibalban knife.

“None the less Richard, he’s right.” Seth acquiesced hesitantly; stepping in front of the vampire to block another senseless Winchester/Gecko spat they didn’t have time for, reloading his last clip. Glancing back at the angel the tattoo suited Gecko’s face read you-have-my-blessing. “We got this Clarence so why don’t you ah, make those wings useful and fly the rest of the Haunted convention folk on outa here huh.” 

No one had to tell him twice as the angel split for the gateway; encouraging the stray terrified civilians to follow him. Meanwhile the Geckos and the Winchesters had separated into teams, running in zig zags across the cemetery, past the dead; going for their extra stash of weapons in the duffles they’d brought along. By then Richie had emptied his Taurus’s chamber.

“I’m out!” he shouted at the top of his lungs; standing behind an angel statue headstone dropping the empty gun. Quickly Seth tossed the vampire his M4A1 Carbine with some magazines. Richie loaded up his carbine/rifle; stepping into view. But just as he was about to spray fresh bullets a familiar face caught him off guard. Blinking owlishly, jaw unscrewing itself the vampire couldn’t believe who it was…Scott Fuller. Richie was so tongue tied the only thing he could muster was a… “Holy shit…Scott?”

Scott was despondent. No smile or emotion of any kind radiating from him. The teenage culebra didn’t even flinch when he saw the taller Gecko brother. Not a hint of his usual spitfire personality. He may as well have been one of the stone statues standing at offering alters. Seth was just as stunned as Richie standing there aiming a Smith & Wesson Model 15 Snub he’d previously fetched from the duffle.

“Kid?” the older Gecko brother blurted; scanning him warily. “Is that you?”

“It can’t be…he’s-

“Oh I’m afraid it is.” A sinister gurgling voice cut off Richie in the background. Switching gazes from Scott the Geckos realized they were finally staring into the moonlit eyes of the infamous grinning putrid creature they’d encountered back at the warehouse…Maximilian Cross. Richie’s cheeks throbbed cholerically. “Hello kiddies, did ya miss me?”

“Fuck me sideways!” Seth blustered.  
________________________________________

Mary Winchester fought hard through the horde; using combos of hand-to-hand techniques and shooting. Often crouching as she attacked. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Willet smirking over the carnage from the gazebo; top of the hill in the cemetery square. Around her were shrieking and gagging bystanders being ravenously devoured; their organs torn out via stomach cavity by zombies that enveloped the group. 

Glaring fierily the blond woman pulled out her special brass knuckles and turned to her sons battling creatures left and right; yelling at people they had saved to run. Up further she could see the Geckos engaged in some sort of confrontation. Now was her chance to assess the main threat.

“I’m going after the cowboy!” she disclosed to the glazed eyes of her boys; shoving fingers through the knuckle holes after head-bunting a creature hard in its face which splattered like an overly ripe water melon. “Whatever you four decide to find us a way out of here, you better do it quickly; we’re already up to our necks in monsters.” Then she took off in a sprint.

“No mom; wait!” Dean exclaimed; but she’d rejected his calls. “It’s too dangerous!”

“Mom!” Sam cried out; kicking back a female zombie in a tattered yellowish wedding gown. “Mom!”

Just as the brothers persisted to engage after Mary they were swarmed by an unwelcoming committee of reptilian faced street punks; hissing at them like a pack of venomous snakes. One was actually wearing a Black Sabbath t-shirt; another had on a red crossbones bandana. Each creature armed with protruding long fangs and razor sharp talons. Uh oh! Culebras; drone bodyguards who had been protecting the druids. This was not their night. And these suckers were ugly; images of that Gecko all monstered out in scales and slit eyes came flooding back to Dean like an awful nightmare. He didn’t know these things very well but he didn’t like them. 

“Hey boys,” Dean muttered wary smirk; hanging onto the gun making a steeple with his fingers. “How’s it hanging? Any of you fellas watch those Anaconda movies?”

“Dean I don’t think they’re here to make friends.” Sam articulated dourly; subtly gulping as he watched the fiends lick their lips.

“Yah thanks for the newsflash Geraldo.”

Richie warned the Winchesters his kind weren’t exactly the friendliest vamp species around and he wasn’t kidding. Although the free-willed ones were probably worse than these guys. Instinctively the dozen creatures viciously roared for their throats; baring their drooping fangs. Good thing Sam remembered to pack those stake bullets the Geckos had given them back at the compound; which in turn the brothers used to synchronously shoot down culebra drones, taken aback when the bodies incinerated into fire and ash. Well that was different.

Meanwhile Mary stealthily had caught up with the old hombre; ambushing him from behind with a swift blow to the head knocking off his hat. Yet instead of being met with heated retaliation, Willet wolfishly grinned at the blond woman; picking his hat up off the grass, properly dusting it off before securing the amulet into his pocket. Mary raised her fists, one wearing the brass knuckles, taking a fighting stance before launching another defensive maneuver. This time the ranger necromancer was ready for the hit; snatching her wrist and squeezing it hard enough to shatter bone.

“Now, now there feisty Goldilocks,” he taunted; black coal eyes burning right through her. “That ain’t no way for a perdy young lady like yourself to be actin’.” With impressive forced he shoved Mary backwards; tumbling her to the ground. “But since ya feel so strongly about it; I’d be very much obliged to clip down them horns.”

Rolling backwards, Mary catapulted onto her feet again charging at the hombre; jerking her knee into his gut. He countered the attack; dodging her, throwing some intense punches. Appearances were deceiving when it came to this man. His speed was another factor the blond woman hadn’t predicted nor was his strength. Of all the beasts she’d ever faced in her decades long career as a hunter this necromancer was something otherworldly altogether. Not a drop of sweat broke from Willet’s brow yet Mary could feel herself draining of energy the longer she fought him.

Finally the brass knuckles collided fast and hard into Willet’s jaw. She heard a crack. Yet what stunned Mary wasn’t that she’d managed to draw blood from his lip but that the hit hadn’t budged him. In fact he didn’t even flinch from the pain that was now inflicted on her. The old hombre recognized the blond hunter struggling to conceal her agony as she held her sore arm; it amused him.

“Gol-darn lil’ Miss, you’re really hazing a tender foot in this dance.” He chortled which only seethed Mary. “If this is all you are it ain’t really worth a hill of beans Darlin’.”

The blond hunter’s boot instantly soared into Willet’s shin. “Screw you son of a bitch!” she spat as he grunted.

Just as before the blow hadn’t phased the old hombre; straightening up stiff-backed and laughing contagiously. Mary gritted her teeth repeating another lunge scheme; swinging both fists in the air hoping to swipe that antagonizing smug look off his face. She was unsuccessful falling into the ploy as he grabbed her arms; swung her around and clutched her against his chest in a bear-hug. Damn it! How could she be so reckless? He’d most likely kill her there was no way to budge that strength. What the hell was he? 

“Playtime’s over kitten, I reckon this is where ya get off.”

WACK! Mary hurled her head backwards into Willet’s face giving him a sharp backwards bunt. The impact caused the ranger necromancer to release his grip around her. Resuming the fighting stance she braced for third counterattack only this time instead of rushing her, Willet froze gawking at the woman confoundedly; cocking his head sideways like there was something on her face he hadn’t seen before. Was this another ambush? If it was Mary wasn’t going to be lured in again. Nothing prepared her for what Willet was about to say next.

“Well skin me alive and call me luggage,” the old hombre sneered sinisterly; circling the blond woman with rapacious glazed eyes. “A wondering soul…ma spirits tell me your perdy hide kicked the bucket several lifetimes ago. And a mystic entity brought life into that there set of windpipes.” His nostrils flared as he paused inches from Mary’s hair; sniffing which disgusted her. “How is it the the fates would grin upon me this very night of absolution…that I would obtain the very next ingredient of Xibalba’s ascension?”

Mary seized the opportunity to shove the old hombre rearwards.

“Stay the hell back!” she growled menacingly; armed with a blade pulled from her pocket, retracting steps from Willet. 

The old hombre clucked his tongue impudently at the blond hunter; pointing his “quick-draw” directly between her eyes. The moment she heard the safety click off a sinking feeling devastated her. Even if Mary could throw her knife at the necromancer there was no way the plunge would kill him being as powerful as he was. And right now she got the sensation that Willet was just toying with her as he’d been doing this whole time.

“Kinda glad ya caught the knife,” he chuckled, squinting his right eye. “It’s gonna make this a whole lot easier.”

MOM!” Sam and Dean clamored panic-stricken; arriving on the scene aiming their guns at the brash cowboy. “That’s far enough Jonah Hex!” sneered the bravado hunter.  
Willet just snickered gleefully.

“Ain’t this a touchin’ display; ol’ Mama Goose’s little flock finally comin’ to her rescue.” He bit down on his tongue; beaming diabolically at the Winchester boys. At lightning speeds WACK! The old hombre’s colt grip collided into Mary’s skull; snatching up her disoriented figure into his arms. “You best skin yourselves boys or sweet lil’ blondie here’s gonna be reintroduced to ma canon.”

“Mom!” Sam hollered.

“Let her go dickwad!” Dean vibrated with fury; seething.

The old hombre glowered at the two hunters; grilling his cigarette stained teeth threateningly. “Is there cotton buildin’ up in them listeners or are ya’ll just hard of hearin’ these days? Let me be clear on how this works.” 

Willet pointed the gun at Mary’s temple but at the same time Sam was overcome by an invisible gripping perception around his throat; collapsing to his knees coughing and clutching his neck. The taller hunter could’ve sworn he was being strung up by a noose; the rope roughly chaffing against his skin, choking and gasping for air. 

Alarmed, Dean urgently fell to his brother’s aid. “SAM!” the bravado hunter could barely concentrate on the old hombre holding their mother captive. “SAMMY!” his abhorrent eyes glared at the hombre. “Let them go!”

“Now why don’t we try this another tick?” scowled Willet; pressing the gun barrel firmly into the unconscious Mary’s skin. “I could influence ma spirits to severe your giant bro’s jugular before I drop you both or feed your sniveling carcasses to ma awaitin’ dead. Either way it makes no dog-lickin’ difference how ya die; your world is about to go belly-up friends…especially since ya’ll brought me the very next component for ma spell.”

“DAMMNIT I SAID LET THEM GO!”  
________________________________________

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Richie’s M4A1 bullets ricocheted off gravestones and ofrendas; tearing through candlelit Dia de los Muertos displays as Cross dramatically eluded the barrage. The vampire braced for the dead man’s incursion; that came charging like a bat out of hell and tackling the younger Gecko brother to the ground. Grunting from the impact, Richie could’ve sworn he was hit by a freight train; lucky for him that culebra strength spared a concussion just when his skull connected with stone. 

Zombies scattered around the Geckos, groaning and shrieking as they feasted on civilians; forming a circular wall they’d obediently hadn’t stumbled through. With the gun knocked out of his grasp fending off Cross’s snarling eroded blood-stained jowls; Richie could hear the ambiguous groans of Seth being physically assaulted in the short distance as he tried reasoning with drone-Scott. If only the vampire could get to both of them.

“Come now this can’t be all ya got kiddo,” the zombified necromancer perversely taunted Richie; thrashing underneath his grip. “I waited 24 hours for a rematch. Where’s that same hellfire of passion I saw back at the warehouse? I swear the disappointments keep piling on.”

The suave suited vampire growled jabbing a right hook at the hideous corpse’s mug before tying his legs around its throat in superb jujitsu lock and tossing the creature off him; then flipping frontwards into an imposing fighting stance emulating a Street Fighter character in one of his sentimental video games. Cross let out a throaty chuckle wiping away some excess black goo dribbling down his chin as he picked himself up.

“That was a freebie; next time I’m gonna rip that arm off and use it as a doorstop.”

Richie let out an arrogant scoff. “Oh I’m sorry I thought we were fighting not bitching like little old ladies in a retirement home.” He ogled Cross’s unflattering form; wrinkling his nose over the creature’s fowling stench. “Then again…you’re gonna need more than a bath to mask that shit you’ve been sporting around.”

“Well I gotta say your sense of humor hasn’t impaired for a kid that’s nearly dead.”

“You think that’s hilarious; you should see my roundoff back handspring. Get more chuckles out of that.”

Richie shifted opposite of his opponent; moving in again and pressed his attacks harder. He ended up catching Cross with a sleek uppercut and a roundhouse kick that sent him to hurtling to into a tombstone; obliterating it. The corpse lumbered onto his feet and braced himself as the vampire sprinted at him; unleashing a series of mixed martial arts moves ranging from jujitsu to capoeira. Despite being immensely strong and quick Cross simply couldn’t approach the caliber to that of Richie. Although at the rate he was going with malnutrition and sleep deprivation; the younger Gecko brother was bound to get careless.

Meanwhile Seth was preoccupied brawling with Scott; undoubtedly getting his ass handed to him in the process. And damn was this kid even more vicious as a drone than he was normal. Maybe he should’ve taken a few of those UFC lessons at the local Y to Uncle Eddie’s behest when he was in high school; probably would’ve done him good instead of relying on his typical street fighting and boxing techniques. Nothing phased or fragmented the teenaged culebra. Scott fought with an eased confidence; unrestrained from morality or conscience. 

“Scott! Scott, snap out of it damn it!” Seth exclaimed brashly; dodging the teenager’s fists before feeling the brunt of his foot in the side of the head. Normally this would’ve been humiliating for the older Gecko brother; spitting out blood as he reflected back on his fight with Big Ass Prisoner during his five year stint in jail. But somehow knowing that Scott wasn’t himself had softened the older Gecko brother’s bruising ego and pride. “For fuck sakes you’re being screwed with!” 

THWACK! A despondent Scott swiftly kicked Seth’s chest where Cross had injured him the other night; coughing each time the kid’s shoe collided into his abdomen. If it hadn’t been for Castiel’s healing touch he probably would’ve been feeling those excruciating cracked ribs. And Seth was still very human; he could only take so much abuse from a super-powered being before his body wore down. Currently his mind was focused on attempting to jug Scott Fuller’s memory or at the very least wait for an opportunity to knock him cold. 

Seth was sneering, shaking the head as a gash opened above his brow. “Jesus Christ you’re an even bigger pain in the ass than Carlito.” He wasn’t having any of this; frustration overcoming him. “Scott are you really gonna let these maimed assholes jerk you around?!” 

Cross heckled maliciously at Seth.

“Scott can’t hear you Mr. Gecko.” the rotting corpse gurgled; blind-siding Richie’s hits and dominating the altercation. “The boss’s got a firm grip on that dormant boy. He’s nothing more than a mindless footstool now. You can scream his name till you’re fucking blue in the face; it still won’t penetrate through that spell. His mind is completely suppressed.”

“Yah well first chance I get, I’m coming for you ya son of a bitch!”

Cross just rolled his sunken eyes at the tattoo suited Gecko brother; still clutching his snub pistol with one hand. “You’ll be dead before the bullet leaves that gun.”

“Hey, Cheese-dick!” Richie snorted slamming his knuckles into Cross’s left eye; fingers smeared in white puss. “You’re fighting me not him remember? Maybe you should spend less time on snappy comebacks so I wouldn’t have to kick your ass so damn bad. It’s almost embarrassing.”

Cross gritted his teeth snarling sadistically at Richie; black drool hanging in long strands off his skeletal mouth. His moonlit eyes shone frigidly cold like milky glaciers. The vampire needn’t assume that this creature wanted to kill him more than anything. He’d proven it twice already attacking Seth. Much as the corpse enjoyed antagonizing the Gecko brothers; Cross was dead set on taking their lives against the wishes of Willet. He was a rebel in that sense. Xibalba mattered less compared to creating chaos; it was just about his desire to torture and kill. 

“Ya looking for a challenge sport? I’m just getting warmed up.” Without warning Cross darted forward chomping his jaws; swiping and clawing rotten bony fingers at Richie. Countering every attack until the vampire suddenly felt faint allowing the corpse an opportunity to knee-jab him in the gut; which would’ve winded a mere mortal. Landing rough on his back, glasses jerked from his face, the bracelet Richie had bought for Kate earlier flew out of his pocket; tumbling a few feet from him. “Kid I’ve faced juggernauts that are fiercer warriors than you. This is a fucking outrage; all that power ingested and nothing to show for it, what a shame.”

Delirious Richie felt his eyesight blur; similar to when he was human relying on his spectacles. His jaw unwound itself gasping for what he thought he needed was breath; holding his stomach. Ears were ringing with the carnage of people hollering as zombies tore their flesh; consuming their inners like a graphic scene out of Saving Private Ryan. Factitious flames had now spilled out into the cemetery due to the toppled candles. Each separate cry of unimaginable pain was like a million brain-piercing knives. 

Pressing his fingers into his eyes Richie fought to drown out the agony convulsing throughout his whole body; smelling that blood only infuriated his hunger. For the first time he felt helpless; unable to find that extra bit efficiency needed to waste this varmint. Seth was right; it was only a matter of time before his culebra juice diminished what with how little he cared to replenish.

Cross kicked Richie again and again until he vomited blood. Hard as he tried to shake it off the vampire simply couldn’t regain sense of his surroundings. Was he supposed to just lay there and die? What about Seth? What about the Winchesters? What about Kate; she was counting on him. KATE! His rhinestone blue eyes snapped wide open at the very thought of that girl being harmed. He couldn’t die; not until he saved her. Hysterical, Richie flipped onto his stomach and slowly crawling towards the very thing that gave him clout; desperation washing over his frail exterior.

“Aww what’s the matter kiddo? Run out of gas?” leered Cross; kicking at Richie’s dragging body repeatedly. “Come to think of it I don’t remember you being this much of a pussy in Xibalba. Yah, sources told me you were quite the demolition machine down there in The Pit; killing, ripping, bones cracking, doing whatever means necessary to stay alive. I guess a year of consistent torture will do that to a person.”

Lifting his chin the corpse crouched to Richie’s eye level and let out a sardonic sigh; snatching the collar of his suit. Bleakly gazed; the vampire was heavily disoriented yet struggling with every fiber he had to keep from passing out entirely.

“You were an animal down there now look at you; it’s pathetic. I mean if it hadn’t been for your tattooed bro and his trusty lapdog Peacekeeper, Xibalba would’ve stamped out every trace of humanity left disintegrating inside you.” Cross simpered releasing Richie’s collar; stand up circling him. “Why are you fighting so hard to deny what you are Richard; deny your true nature?” The glint of Richie’s bracelet purchased for Kate stopped the corpse in his tracks; provoking him to pluck it up. “Is it the girl? Is that what’s compelling this sensational need to be human and justly good?”

“Fuck…you!” Richie fierily spat; under heavy breaths.

“Ah, there’s that anger I’ve been waiting for.” Laughed the corpse; clapping his moldy flesh-torn hands together. “Tell me something kiddo; did your little mortal girlfriend shudder at the very sight of you when she saw the state of mind you were in? Was it painful…staring back into those pitiful traumatized eyes?” Cross leaned over barbing into the vampire’s ear. “Did her virgin blood tempt you when you tasted it? Admit kid; you wanted to take her…didn’t you?” 

The vampire’s teeth grinded as he took a swipe at Cross’s grotesque complexion. “Don’t test me fuckface!”

A surge of blazing wrath pulsated through Richie’s veins; lips curling into a fearsome hissing noise while his human eyes reconstructed to reptilian irises. Ire had somehow infused the vampire with colossal stamina; balling his fists tighter. Just one more, he thought, just give me one more reason to tear your throat out.  
Seeing the red splotches on Richie’s face only entertained Cross. 

“You know you could easily win this fight; all you have to do is relinquish your soul and succumb to the darkness…just as you did in Xibalba.” 

“Go to hell asshole!” Richie bitterly deflected; jaw clenching. 

“What is it that scares you so much kiddo?” prodded Cross; ominously larking around the culebra twiddling the bracelet between his boney fingers. “Is it living with the serpent’s curse alone for all eternity; you know since you’re ah too stubbornly stupid to turn your human pets…or is it Seth and Kate seeing you for the monster you genuinely are?” He let out a venomous snicker which only incensed Richie’s enmity. “Do you really think Kate could ever love a sad creature like you; the man who took her family…took her life and let her die at that blood well?”  
Snap. That did it. 

“I SAID SHUT UP!” roared the vampire onto his feet. Diving for Cross swinging both his fists. This time Richie wasn’t holding back; fangs elongating, fighting with such ferocity that the bracelet had slipped out of the corpse’s grasp. Switching between offense and defense making it impossible for Cross to follow; with every jab Richie was indignantly cursing and screaming his lungs out. “DON’T YOU FUCKING SAY HER NAME AGAIN! DON’T YOU DARE!”

Normally Richie was a strictly composed person yet the moment someone taunted him with his affliction or used his loved ones to inflict pain; the younger Gecko brother saw nothing but red. Cross simply threw back his head cackling sadistically; evading the aggressively amped vampire fists of fury with mockery.

“Whoa there kiddo, someone needs to watch their temper.”

The younger Gecko brother could feel himself exasperatedly shaking the longer he listened to Cross’s gibes. “I’m gonna enjoy rearranging that jaw of yours since you insist on wagging it like a little bitch!” 

“Face it kid, there’s nothing good about you! Evil plagued your heart long before you were turned. That urge to kill was lingering in every follicle…like when you burnt ol’ daddy-dearest to a crisp.” Interval, the vampire stalled; eyes aghast as Cross grinned at him. “Told ya I knew about you more than you thought. And I’m right aren’t I; otherwise you wouldn’t have survived a year in Hell. It takes a killer to endure what that place had to offer.” Richie howled violently, throwing punches and kicks unconsciously until finally the corpse managed to catch his arm. “Xibalba didn’t make you what you are Richard neither did that voluptuous whore who sired you; all they did was allow you to unleash the beast. Stop resisting it!”

The vampire yanked back his arm from Cross; kicking him hard in the nether region. 

“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!” 

Cross laughed; tremoring throughout his lanky form as black tar substances spurted out his neck lacerations.

“You can’t win! The apocalypse is already here kiddo; not even your new Mystery Machine pals can prevent that,” the corpse coughed spritely; wobbling in his tall awkward frame as he undertook Richie to the ground. “Willet will get his core from your brother and when that happens you can kiss daylight adios amigo!”

Before Cross could make a fatal move on Richie; BANG! BANG! Two shots fired halting the rancid creature’s raised arms. Turning towards the commotion, Richie could see Seth’s lethal silhouette shrouded in the misty fog fifteen paces behind Cross; aiming his Model 15 Snub. His faced was all battered and bloodied; it was amazing that he could even shoot straight with his right eye so swollen. The bullets ripped clean through the creature’s ribcage inducing it to shriek savagely before fleeing the scene. But where was Scott?”

“Richard!” the older Gecko brother limp-jogged over to his preternatural sibling; voice anguished. “Richard; you alright buddy!”

“Ah, yah; you’re timing’s impeccable brother.” The vampire groaned painfully as the ire gave way for his natural sassy composed nature; securing his glasses back onto his face. His whole body felt like one giant bruise but it was nothing compared to Seth’s busted features. “And you look like shit by the way you know.” 

“Thanks for that.” Seth chided sardonically, and then his dark eyes were shimmering pools crouching beside his sibling; attempting to coax Richie’s head up. No culebra senses were needed to interpret just how scared the older Gecko brother looked at that moment; heart racing, skin ghostly pale. Richie wasn’t used to seeing such fear radiating from Seth, not like this; knowing how tough as nails he was. Seth worried about him all the time sure, but he wasn’t the type that startled easily; except maybe when it came to the paranormal. However the façade diminished as Seth switched on his usual pessimistic demeanor. “God damn you Richie; I wasted good bullets saving your ass from Bernie Lomax and he’s still active.”

“Maybe you should’ve aimed for the head ya idiot.”

Seth grimaced at Richie.

“Nice, so this is what I get for sticking my neck out for you,” climbing to his feet in a huff; taking hold of the vampire’s hand and hoisting him to stand. “Terrific I’ll remember that. In case you didn’t notice I got a fucking softball for an eyepatch little shit.”

Richie pressed his lips into a slight irked frown; changing subjects.

“Where’s Scott?” Richie inquired; flexing his sore arms behind his back as he went to retrieve the M4A1 rifle along with Kate’s bracelet. “What happened to ‘I got this Richie’?”  
Seth scowled derisively shooting down a couple zombies shuffling in front of them; turning to the vampire.

“Well while you two were busy playing undead Mortal Kombat; I was getting pummeled by that kid. Little punk nearly got me in the balls too. Which for the record was not as pleasant as it sounds believe me,” responded the older Gecko brother; acerbically expressional. “Let’s just say the Boy-Wonder got a little too cocky for his own good and I managed to Balboa him from behind. And the rest you know.”

“Very smooth brother.” Richie beamed; encouraging Seth into their signature cross-gun handshake.

The Geckos hurried past headstones and shambling corpses but by the time they reached the area where Seth had left Scott unconscious; he was gone. First Cross and now the Preacher’s son? Clearly those two had something bigger agenda with Willet down the road for the Geckos and their new companions if they were in a hurry to split from the fight. With Xibalba’s vortex giving way to the dead; all bets were off on the living. No sense sulking over their losses, Seth and Richie had to plot an escape from the swarming hordes. 

The older Gecko brother shook his head reloading his snub. “Okay enough of this shit; you take that carbine over to the gazebo and give the Winchesters a hand with good ol’ boy Uncle Sam.”

“And what are you gonna do?” Richie hectored; scrutinizing his mortal sibling. 

“I’m gonna head over to God’s angelic messenger and grab the car; maybe get a quick makeover while I’m at it. Yes siree this Halloween Horror Nights of Hell is officially dead.” 

Cocking their artillery concurrently, the Gecko brothers departed into their individual missions. Seth half-limping towards the gateway where Castiel was fending off another wave of mobile corpses while Richie trailed up the hill to where he’d seen Sam and Dean Winchester follow their mother. He didn’t anticipate stumbling into the middle of another hostage scenario; Mary disoriented in Willet’s arms, Sam on the grass fighting to breath as a convulsing Dean pointed his colt at the old hombre. It could’ve been a scene torn out of an old fashioned western movie. Either way Richie didn’t hesitate aiming his rifle at the base of Willet’s skull.

“Looks like I got here just in time.” 

The old hombre turned to the intruding culebra; but Dean kept his anxious gaze glued on the man threatening his family.

“Oh sure you’re friggin hero.” The bravado hunter derided gruffly. “Thanks for showing up kid; took you long enough though.”

Richie cringed; retorting at Dean cynically. “Seth and I were kinda tied up with Hannibal Lector and mini Lee back there; but if you two wanna handle this on your own…”

Willet’s face animated disturbingly; gawking at the vampire. “Well raise hob; los hermanos Gecko in ma midst at last.” His crisp southern accent was gravelly yet retained that old wisdom while he spoke. “I was beginnin’ to think we wouldn’ be properly introduced by the nights end.”

The younger Gecko brother made a miffed noise.

“Well unfortunately for you I’m not interested in chewing the fat there Sonny-Jim.” Richie despondently loaded a magazine into his gun; squinting into the scope. “You have something I want; already saw what you did to one of them. Pretty messed up man.”

“Ain’t that the kicker? And here I thought it woulda warmed that there cold dead heart seeing a familiar face in the crowd,” sneered the old hombre cleverly; tightening his grasp on Mary’s waist. Dean was getting agitated watching that barrel jammed against his mother’s temple and his brother fighting to breath. “The boy’s a mere pawn compared to what fate I have instore for ya’ll Geckos.”

The vampire rolled his eyes. If this was some more destiny talk that Cross instigated at the warehouse, he wasn’t in the mood to hear it.

“Yah, yah you can save the bullshit Grandpa.” He clipped. Dean’s patience was wearing thin; more so than Sam who was just on the verge of turning blue. Richie boldly dicking around with Willet was the last thing they needed. Did it occur to him that two more lives were now at stake? “I’m here for one reason and that’s to get what I came for.”

A quirk tugged the corners of Willet’s mouth. “You sure gotta a tongue there on ya son. Best you keep it in check cause your hide bout to make a mighty fine set of boots.”

“And you’re two seconds away from being rat bait.” Richie deflected; exchanging glances between Sam gasping for air and Mary held captive while passed out. Who would’ve thought he’d be using that brain to rescue these humans? “Now why don’t you let Hair and the lady go they’ve got nothing to do with this.”

“Oh but they have every inch of a part to play in this friend; as do you and yourn brother.” The old hombre ushered the culebra’s attention to Mary. “Goldilocks here just happens to possess a key component in this here fanciful rodeo….a wondering soul.” Willet reversed his gaze to Dean; smiling ruthlessly. “And ma spirits have so generously notified me that you boys are bona fide statues of integrity. Ya’ll carry a certain majestic appellation; now just what in tarnation might that be exactly?”

Sam’s face looked like a crimson beat; vein throbbing in his forehead as he struggled to choke out a response. “W-we’re….Men of Letters!”

Richie raised an analytical eyebrow but Dean blew out his cheeks; dishearten that his brother would even give this fiend a single crumb while he was in the position of losing oxygen. 

“Sammy don’t!” implored the bravado hunter. Fingers sweating on the trigger under a trembling grip as he snarled at the necromancer. “Stop it you’re killing him!”

Willet’s eyes and nose crinkled demonically; with a slight closed lip smile. Something about that disclosure reaffirmed his consciousness. Looking back at the old hombre, Dean and Richie internally came to the same conclusion that he was familiar with such an organization.

“Men of Letters…well ain’t that a fine kettle of fish,” Willet disparaged; sticking a cigarette between his teeth before securing the gun against Mary’s temple. “I am fully aware of them library boys; crossed paths with ‘em long before you was even a glimmer in your daddy’s eye. But I was under the impression they’d been wiped off the map.” His nostrils flared; sucking in the stench of blood muddling the air. “Guess I dun got fortunate with a couple of pups this hefty evenin’. No matter, ya caint prevent what I have already set in motion son.” Willet glanced over at the far cemetery entrance where Castiel was smiting zombies. “Not even your cosmic powerhouse friend over there is gonna avert ma innovation.” 

Dean’s lip curled back seething while Richie moved in closer.

“What about Kate?!” demanded the infuriated vampire; adjusting his lock on the old hombre through the scope. “Where is she?!”

“Ah yes that lil’ flower of yourn is also vital to ma plans; the catalyst. She ain’t here if that’s what ya’ll been hopin’. But her time will come eventually, being Amaru’s vessel and all.” Richie’s blood started to boil listening to this creep’s pretentious monologue. “Once I’ve administered all necessities needed I would have successfully cemented Xibalba with this plain indefinitely. Just completed the first stage of ascension.”

Dean glowered at Willet; his teeth nervously gritting. “Yah well you’re just gonna have to take a rain check on the zombie apocalypse crap cause there ain’t no friggin way I’m letting you walk out of here alive old man.” The hunter’s icy tone was as deadly as the unlocked piece in his firm grip. “Over my dead body.” 

Willet chortled in his throat; tilting his head rubbernecking the bravado hunter. Analyzing every layer of his gruff voice to the subtle buckles in his knees; the old hombre saw through Dean’s pitiful façade. The jig was up. No matter how much the older Winchester brother tried to hide it; his emotions gave him away. Dean was terrified and Willet gloated in that fear.

“Let them go!” the bravado hunter snapped. “NOW!”

“Touched as I am of this tender family moment son; you really only have one of three options to go about in this hoedown.” Snarled the ranger necromancer; his coal eyes were searing beyond Dean’s blistering green gaze. “Attempt to rescue Mary-Sunshine here and your brother stops breathin’. Save him you lose mama bear. But if ya fire that there canon; they’ll both be lyin’ six feet under the dirt. Time is an essence for a decision boy and I dung got no time to fuck around.”

“D-Dean!” Sam coughed in the background; withering in agony. “Y-you….h-have to save mom! S-save her please…we can’t lose her again…”

“It’s gonna be alright Sam.”

Shaking uncontrollably, Dean’s eyes were swimming with tears the more he darted around the choice; glancing briefly at Richie for some kind of moral support but even he was lost. No, this couldn’t be happening. Please not this! There was no way. Dean was not going to choose between Sam and Mary. This monster could threaten him all he wished but there was no way in hell the hunter was sacrificing his family.

“Make yourn choice son.” the old hombre taunted. “Whose it goin’ be? Which side of the family do ya hold in the highest regards? Steady now partner, I don’ think your taller half has long to last. Either way you lose blood.”

“You son of a bitch.” Dean’s voice broke into bitterness gnashing his teeth; breathing intensifying. “I’m gonna kill you I swear to God!”

“I could get a box seat for that blessed affair; but it’d be a short-lived consequence for you friend. Tell ya what; why don’ I make it a little easier?” 

Hesitating mid-sentence Willet snapped his fingers; on cue Dean and Richie noticed shadow forms moving around him protectively. Coming into view out of the white cloaking billows, they realized looking upon their reptilian faces with black unfinished circles above their brows that it was the old hombre’s additional culebra drone squad. Damn it they were outnumbered! And Sam didn’t have much time before he passed out…that is unless Richie undertook the decision to shoot Willet; possibly freeing the hunter from his control in the process. 

But just when Dean felt that nudge to recklessly charge these goons; the old hombre delivered Mary’s body into one of the creature’s arms who disappeared with her after and pointed his quick-draw at the hunter. 

“MOM!” 

“I told you to make a choice son. You refused.” Willet sneered, clicking the safety with his thumb. “Cataclysm stalls for no man and I ain’t a fan of the waitin’.”

BANG! A single bullet ruptured straight through the necromancer’s knuckles; catapulting the gun out of his grip. Agonized Willet could see smoke tailing from the barrel of Richie’s M4A1; he’d taken the shot. At the same time the old hombre hadn’t realized he’d lost his mental hold on Sam; who was just beginning to recover as the color came flooding back to his cheeks. Dean instantly dropped to his knees beside his brother; clasping both sides of his face.

“Sammy!” he blurted in a quivering voice; searching his sibling’s eyes and brushing matted shaggy hair away with his fingers. “Sam, talk to me! Talk to me little brother come on.” Sam coughed repeatedly; clearing his airway keeping a hand pressed to his throat. Finally he could breathe but currently the Winchesters had yet another dilemma weighing on them; their mother’s life.

“D-Dean...” 

Thank god. Relieved the bravado hunter quickly embraced his brother then helped him to his feet. Sam was still in no condition to talk or even move. Willet on the other hand was in a pent up rage as the gaping wound slowly started healing; glowering viciously at Richie who’d motioned in front of the Winchesters. Was he really trying to protect them? Then again Sam’s air supply could’ve been permanently severed if the vampire hadn’t intervened when he did.

“Dagnabbit you lil’ fucker! Ya dung tore a hole in ma feeler!” angrily hooted the old hombre; clutching his bloody wrist. “I outa hang your scalawag behind in the dry sun and watch the cinders flake from your body.”

Richie calmly shrugged; blue eyes vacant.

“Sorry I’m not much for tanning on beaches these days. But what I am good at is putting bullets into assholes who can’t bluff their way for shit,” gibed the steely voiced culebra in the glasses and black suit. “You’re not gonna kill me; Skeletor already spilled the beans about Seth and I sharing some great destiny and you’ve just confirmed it earlier…TWICE. We’re no good to you dead. So the way I see it you’ve only got one of two options in this game of dominos.” 

Richie smiled jerkily than, much to the Winchesters’ shock, placed the barrel of the rifle under his chin.

“Hey, hey what the hell are you doing ya mook?!” Dean cried appallingly. “Are you friggin insane?!”

“Yah a little bit,” the vampire sinisterly threw over his shoulder at the Winchesters before fixating on Willet. “Since brushing up on my knowledge of Xibalban necromancers I’m willing to bet that these guns probably won’t do jack shit to you; given the accelerated healing. However I’m well aware that culebras can die just as easily as humans and it just so happens this rifle is loaded with stake bullet rounds; deadly to me.” Richie narrowed his eyes grinning wider over Willet’s frustration. “Either you release Goldie Hawn now and tell me where the hell Kate is…or I blow my fucking head off and your Zombie Wonderland goes caput. Your call.” 

The old hombre managed a nervous chuckle; licking the blood off his fingers. “Uh ah, now who’s bluffin’? Put the piece down, ya ain’t got the cahoones son.”

“Try me.”

Willet thought for a second then approached the younger Gecko brother; chomping on the cigarette lodged between his teeth as he deliriously scanned the weapon aimed under Richie’s jaw. He seemed to be torn between doubt that the young man would follow through on his threat and fear that he would; obliterating centuries of plotting. The ranger necromancer wasn’t a fool and neither was this kid; so be it that they duke it out in a battle of wits.

“Suppose ya ended your life…what in hell’s fire would that accomplish, boy?” Willet patronized. “How’d it save your friends huh? Your brother? Or that purdy lil’ lady ya carryin’ a torch for?” The very mention of Kate immediately provoked Richie to swallow hard; dampening his smugness. “Oh yes I know all about the pain ya inflicted on that porcelain darlin’ back at that there carnival; those stinging words flung like poisonous arrows aimed at her heart.” Tears were glazing the vampire’s eyes as Willet forced him to relive that day in his mind. ‘Yet truth be known…you deeply desire that tender morsel…and ya wanna save her like some rugged hero in one of them westerns…don’t ya?” 

Richie couldn’t speak; all the cockiness and confidence had fled giving way to discouragement. That was when the old hombre realized he’d just struck gold; tapping into the vampire’s weakness. It brought a smile to his face; grasping the rifle and pulling the barrel away.

“I regret to say…ya caint protect her son. Lil’ Miss Kate’s fate is already fashioned in stone; as is los hermanos Gecko.” 

All of a sudden the Gecko brothers’ black 60’s cougar came roaring through bushes and corpses; smashing into Willet’s drone bodyguards. Breaks slammed, Seth spontaneously popped his head out the window on the driver’s side with his snub pistol shooting at culebras. And by the looks of his miraculously healed complexion; Richie needn’t guess who was responsible. Castiel came to mind quickly.

“GET IN!” Seth shouted at Richie and the Winchesters during the gunfire. “Hurry up!”

Dean threw Sam’s arm over his shoulder picking up their duffle with the other arm and hurried to the car after Richie. Only once they climbed inside, the bravado hunter’s eyes wandered anxiously around the vehicle; concluding that besides Mary another face was missing from their group.

“Wait a minute!” he scolded fastening his seatbelt in the back seat with Sam. “Where’s Cass?!”

Seth pumped the gearshift; backing out the car as he responded. “Yah ah…about Clarence…he sorta skipped out on us Bravado.” Putting his foot to the gas the cougar sped through the cemetery; down the dark pavement, reeling past the gate.

“What do you mean skipped out?!” Dean was vexed enough as he was dealing with his mother’s abrupt kidnapping; he didn’t want to have to worry about the angel too. “Where the hell is he, Kuwait?”

“He told me he was gonna follow Willet’s goons back to their hideaway then meet up with us later or some shit.” Seth sighed; quickly glancing in the rearview mirror. “Hey I know I’m a little hazy from Kid Flash knocking me around but aren’t we missing Blondie?”

“Willet took her.” Sam imported heatedly; leaning back with his arms folded. 

“Shit!” the older Gecko brother slapped the stirring wheel; mowing down zombies. “That son of a bitch was screwing us from the start; cyborging-Scott, reanimating the Evil Dead, abducting your old lady. He was ready for us.”

“So what do we do now brother?” Richie queried in the passenger seat.

Seth’s tongue rolled around in his mouth; focused on the road. “First I’m gonna drop our friendly monster hunters off at the high school to get their ride. After that…it’s open season on these motherfuckers.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry to my readers for long delay. I was on vacation and the writers block didn't help either lol but here it is; the moment you've all been waiting for, the Day of the Dead battle!! This was perhaps the most challenging part I've written in the story so far but I'm fiercely proud of it. Get ready for more twists and turns coming at you; enjoy and thank you so much for being patient! ^_^


	8. Chapter 7

Geckos’ Compound 8:45 pm…

… Houston, Texas…

… 4 months earlier

Seth Gecko crestfallenly sat in the passenger seat of Ranger Freddie Gonzalez’s silver 4x4 pickup; tugging at his lower lip with his fingertips as he sorted through his thoughts. The windshield wipers were moving steadily as a torrent of rain washed down the vehicle; like a cloud had burst overhead. It had been 48 hours since he and the Peacekeeper harrowingly infiltrated Xibalba to rescue Richie; using Freddie’s Underworld connections thanks to his brief relationship with Ximena. As it turned out crossing over into a hell dimension was a lot easier than escaping it; particularly when you had to escape with a ballistic prisoner. Every time Seth shut his eyes briefly he relived the horrors of that place; from the rancid hot aroma of dead flesh to the twisted torture chambers within the red stone caverns and then…there was the Pit. 

Seth shuddered when he thought of the Pit. An Underworld arena similarly built like the Colosseum where Xibalban monsters, warriors and condemned souls battled to the death in front of the hierarchies. And the only way to survive…was to kill. Freddie and Seth had to disguise themselves as spectators in order to get close enough to Richie; luckily a culebra informant by the name of Leech provided the older Gecko brother and his companion all the necessities needed to blend in; from their special passes to the clothes which Seth detested…all for a price of course. But out all the terrors he’d faced while there, nothing could’ve forewarned him of the alarming sight his brother was. Reduced to nothing more than a mindless drooling animal after a year of torture and imprisonment; Richie had become something unrecognizable to his usual composed demeanor.

Gone was the snappy suit and glasses along with his memory and any shred of sanity; replaced by a shredded pair of grey trousers and no shirt or footwear. His hair was matted and wet; blood and perspiration dripped down his completely reptilian face. Seth noticed fresh scars covering Richie’s back and torso while he watched the vampire rip through hordes of Xibalban creatures; it made him so sick he’d nearly given himself and Freddie away. During the intermission, the Peacekeeper and the older Gecko brother snuck into the cellar where the Gladiators were kept. Finding Richie was one thing, getting him to cooperate was a whole other ball of wax while he wasn’t in his right mind. Freddy almost backed out of the rescue until Seth managed to get the chain around his brother’s neck. And the entire way back to earth was nearly impossible; they had to sedate Richie then lock him in the trunk of Freddie’s pickup so he couldn’t hurt himself or them.

In addition to Seth’s tormented thoughts of Xibalba was Richie’s violent thrashing and roaring in the cargo compartment that shook the vehicle. The older Gecko brother sighed dourly running his hands down his face; desperate to hold himself together. Freddie was still clutching the stirring wheel; waiting impatiently as he called out Seth’s name.

“Seth! Hey!” the Peacekeeper bleated for the third time nudging the young man’s shoulder; causing him to abruptly snap back into reality. “I said we’re here.” Seth licked his lips and rolled his shoulders as Freddie added. “He’s awake now, so if we’re gonna do this we better do it quickly.”

The older Gecko brother’s facial expression remained unrestrained as he nodded. Turning to Freddie, Seth took into account of the law enforcement officer’s conspicuous wardrobe; black cowboy hat and long dark slicker jacket over a grey top, blue jeans and boots. Despite the mustache and chin beard the medium built Latino Texas ranger was already starting to grow stubble around his jowls and his dark eyes were red from exhaustion; driving all night. Judging by the crankiness of his tone Seth figured the guy was in no mood to extract the cargo given what had happened the first time they attempted to restrain the culebra.

“Yah okay.” The older Gecko brother responded stalely as he undid his seatbelt. “What are we waiting for, the fucking dulcet choir? Let’s go.”

“Wait.” Freddie stopped him before he opened the passenger door. “After this I’m done. We’re square alright?”

Seth was offensively taken aback. “I know.”

“I’m serious. I don’t want any more part of this. You boys have caused me enough trouble; first with Earl then Kate and now Richie.” Freddie sounded like he was on tipping point of mental breakdown; cheeks throbbed as he stared back intensely. “It’s been a run of the mill shit show from day one; costing me my marriage and family. I need to get my life back on track. So from here on out you’re on your own; no more favors. No more contact. We clear on that?”

“Crystal.” Seth deadpanned. “You ah, need me to sign that in blood too?”

Freddie threw up a warning hand.

“Enough of the wisecracks. You’re lucky I even went with you on that suicide mission to get your brother back; would’ve made no difference to me if he’d stayed there. Cause as far as I’m concerned it’s where he belongs.”

Seth’s lip tightened grimacing at the Peacekeeper. It wasn’t like the Gecko brothers expected this guy to suddenly become their best friend while working together to take down Amaru and save the world. Seth and Richie had taken so much from Freddie. He’d more than paid his dues when it came to the brothers; sacrificed everything including his family to fulfill his destiny as the Peacekeeper of the realms. 

He covered for them when Richie faked their deaths. After Amaru cut herself free from Kate’s body, it was Freddie who’d gone out of his way to bandage her arms so she wouldn’t bleed out; followed by rushing her to the hospital along with his family where she’d been comatose for a month. The ranger had helped the two people he hated most in the world without complaint and all it did was cause him endless grief.

“Yah the feeling’s mutual believe me.” Seth gibed at the Peacekeeper; hand on the door. “Look I get it…you think we’re a piece of shit; it couldn’t be more obvious from the ‘I’m-gonna-stab-you-in-your-sleep-next-time’ hostility your eyes are giving off. But for the record you’re not exactly Gondi here either; you already killed my brother once remember?”

“He killed Earl; a good man.”

Seth scrutinized Freddie; voice sullen. “There are no good guys anymore Ranger. Just us and those fucking things. And that’s something you’re just gonna have to live with whether you want to or not.”

As the older Gecko brother faced the door to leave the truck he quickly glanced at his watch; Freddie remained immobile. This time when he spoke the layers of his voice were much softer and empathetic.

“Have you even thought about what you’re gonna do with him?” prodded the ranger; rubbernecking the windshield wipers batting the thick coin-sized droplets against the glass. “He didn’t even recognize you Seth. And he hasn’t bothered to shift back into his human form since we surfaced.” 

“You let me worry about what I’m gonna do with my brother, alright.” Seth sneered as the ranger turned to him. “It’s not your concern anyway.”

“It is if he gets loose and hurts someone.”

“That not’s gonna happen.”

Freddie wasn’t finished.

“You don’t know how long Richie’s been down there; or what was done to him. Ximena told me that time passes at a different speed in Xibalba. He could’ve been a prisoner for hundreds of years.” Halting midsentence the Peacekeeper’s eyes became somber; exhaling. “There’s an 85% chance you might never get him back the way he was. And if you don’t…are you gonna be prepared to do what’s necessary?”

Seth glowered icily unscrewing his jaw when he noticed the ranger had gripped one of his hands on a piece strapped to his holster. He didn’t waste a single second to jam his own snub pistol between Freddie’s eyes; thumb clicking the safety. Tongue lodged between his teeth. The older Gecko brother was sick of screwing around; he’d been distressed since returning from their trip to Hell. He didn’t need this crap. 

“Now you listen to me very carefully so there’s no misunderstanding,” Seth threatened; acidic toned. “Either you shut your fucking mouth and help me get Richie into that holding cell; or the only necessary thing I’m gonna be doing is use your skull for target practice. I doubt Mrs. Gonzalez would appreciate her hero hubby coming home in a body bag.”

Freddie swallowed hard slowly suspending his arms; palms outward as he stared down the tattoo suited young man. Further provoking Seth while he was armed and severely emotional probably wouldn’t have been in the ranger’s best interest. Yet he couldn’t resist antagonizing the older Gecko brother.

“If you’re seriously gonna pull that trigger then do it. My life’s not worth shit. Otherwise get that gun out of my face Gecko.”

Seth could feel his arm shaking as he glared at the Peacekeeper. What the hell?! That’s never happened. In his decade long criminal career the older Gecko brother’s arm was always rock steady; not once did it falter with a piece in hand and he’d held plenty of guns in the past. So why now? Could it have been the guilty conscience that culebra lord Venganza accused him of harboring? Or did it go deeper than that?

“Damn it I helped you rescue Richie out of Xibalba, Seth!” Freddie vitally informed; clenching his jaw. “You really wanna shoot me? Think about what you’re doing.”

Seth’s brown eyes were sallow blowing a gust of air out of his cheeks and pressed the safety switch on; dropping his arm from the ranger. 

“Let’s just get this shit over with,” He mumbled irritably; securing the pistol back under his jacket. “I’m done dicking around.”

Switching off the ignition and throwing the doors open the two men exited the truck; stepping into mud puddles forming into miniature lakes under their feet. Freddie’s hat protected him from the showers above but Seth’s hair had flattened. By the time he and the Peacekeeper made their way to the base of the trunk where they could hear Richie going nuts; the older Gecko brother’s suit was drenched to the point where it felt like weights. 

“You ready?” the ranger looked to Seth; grasping the lever.

“Just do it.” Seth snapped gesticulating; patience wearing thin.

“When I pop the trunk, he’s gonna run out fast; so be prepared to grab that chain. We won’t be able to subdue him otherwise.”

“Yah, yah come on!”

Freddie immediately undid the lever of the tailgate; seconds after he’d done this Richie came soaring out from under the camouflage tarp. The heavy chain rattled around his neck as he leapt off the ramp; plunging onto the muddy surface in a feral crouching position. Rising to his feet Richie towered over the two men. Seth stalled locking widened eyes with the reptilian beast; heart pounding anxiously. He could hardly believe this thing was once his egg-headed younger brother and partner in crime. It made his stomach sick seeing him like this. But Seth didn’t have the minutes to spare; he needed to grab that chain before Richie decided to lunge. 

Sure enough he did. Growling and ferociously snapping his elongated fangs at the older Gecko brother. Darting forward like an uncontrollable tank. Freddie had jumped out of the way but Seth was frozen like a deer in headlights caught in his brother’s path.

“Richard, stop it!” Seth cried dodging the culebra’s swiping claws; exchanging glances between his siblings’ fiery slit irises and the end of the steel clinched leash partially sitting in mud. “It’s me Seth; your brother!” RAWRRRR! “I know you can hear me buddy! I know you’re still in there! You just gotta trust me!” 

Blinking owlishly through the heavy rain; the darkness didn’t help either, Seth could barely see in front of him. The only available lighting came from the outdoor pear-shaped lamps on the side of the building. Finally the older Gecko brother managed to slide past Richie’s massive rampaging body and pluck up the tail end of the chain reeling it back. A loud monstrous shriek erupted from the creature’s throat beneath the deafening thunder; clutching at the steel fastens around his neck. Try as he might though, Seth was simply no match for that impeccable preternatural strength. Feet slipping all over the muddy, wet surface as Richie jerked him around.

The more uncooperative the vampire was; the harder it was to grip the chain. Freddie shuffled side to side like a football player in the background browsing through options in his mind. Should he help Seth detain Richie or make a break for the door? 

“Seth!” he called after the older Gecko brother, struggling with steel lead.

“What the fuck are you waiting for Gonzalez; dawn to break?!” Seth hollered under gritting teeth. “Get the damn garage door open!”

Garage it is. On cue Freddie made a dash past Richie; gunning for the key pad awaiting a code. After punching in the digits, the Peacekeeper hurried back to the Geckos and tackled the culebra from behind; wrapping his arms around him. ROARRR! The creature flung its head backwards into the ranger’s lip as he pursued the sleeper maneuver; busting it open. Luckily the pain didn’t prevent Freddie from releasing his grasp. Seth meanwhile began wrapping the chain around his fist as they both fought to drag Richie into the storage unit where the holding cell was kept. 

“Damn it Richie work with me here!” Seth grunted; hauling the creature forward with the Peacekeeper’s assistance. “We’re trying to help you son of a bitch!” The vampire growled; savagely resisting against the restraints. Still the older Gecko brother hung on. “Stop; I don’t wanna have to hurt you but I will if you make me!”

Crossing the dark threshold of the unit, Seth and the Peacekeeper led Richie towards a large cubic cell standing in the middle of the room amongst wooden crates and a motorcycle; same cell used for Scott when Freddie retrieved him from Amaru. Top to bottom including the door was structured like steel netting; with two larger bars going across in front. Light from saucer shaped lamps hanging off the ceiling, reflected against the concrete floor giving the room a turquoise blue tincture. And beside the motorcycle was a table with a smaller lamp sitting on top  
Lifting the latch of the cage door; Seth and Freddie hurled the culebra inside, swiftly connecting the end of the chain to the far wall so he couldn’t reach at them. Richie snorted and snarled under thick globs of drool, wildly slashing his claws at his older brother and the Peacekeeper exiting the cage; sealing it shut behind them. Seth just stood there peeking at the creature through the diamond stenciled holes; wracked with a mixture of conflicting emotions as his breathing intensified.

“Don’t worry he’s not going anywhere,” Freddie assured Seth; grazing his finders against the cell bars. “With that chain around his neck and the minor adjustments I made; this cage should hold him…” The Peacekeeper paused mid-sentence; melancholy dark eyes lowering to the ground. “But it won’t hold forever Seth… Eventually he’ll get out.”

The older Gecko brother nodded dismissively folding his arms; pinching his lips together as he stared into Richie’s animalistic glare.

“Yah I got it.”

“Listen…I know you wanna believe your brother is still in there,” Freddie kept his voice steady yet urgent. “But what if he isn’t? What if he’s too far gone? Do you really want Richie to suffer like this?”

Irked Seth’s cheeks throbbed; scoffing. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be Gonzalez? Your time on the clock ran out the minute that cage door shut. I wouldn’t wanna keep you from the wifey’s home-cooked dinner and Saturday Night Football.”

Obviously there was no penetrating that iron wall of his. When Seth’s mind was made up it remained impenetrable. And he was dead set on saving Richie no matter what it took or who got in his way. Seth didn’t quit on his culebra sibling when his shadow-self took over and he wasn’t going to quit on him now. So instead of pestering the young man with the reality of the situation, the Peacekeeper silently excused himself from Seth’s space. 

But before leaving the storage unit, Freddie turned back for one last budge. In spite of how he felt about the Geckos he couldn’t deny their inseparable bond; or how much this was devastating Seth. There was just a smidge of compassion he had left to give.

“Just think about it. If you really love your brother….you’ll do what’s best for him; not what you think is best. He’s not gonna hate you for it.” And with that the Peacekeeper departed the compound.

Seth’s glazed eyes watched Richie bash his body against the steel enclosure like a wild beast; immediately rubbing away the wet substance with both hands. It hurt too much. Seeing Richie this way hurt; he just wanted him back. Talk, laugh and joke around with again. He even missed his weirdness. For a month since his brother courageously took the plunge into Xibalba; Seth had been a mess. He’d refused to eat or sleep until he found a way to get his culebra sibling out of there; which he’d done. Now that the older Gecko brother was reunited with the person he loved most in the world it was tearing him up inside.

Incapable of stomaching anymore of his brother’s ferocity, Seth hastily left the room. But not long after Freddie’s 4x4 had sped away from the premises, and the large metal door closed behind him; another red truck pulled into the garage connected to the storage unit where Seth was leaving to enter the main compartment of the compound. He was infuriated when he recognized the pale young brunette woman and teenage boy exiting the vehicle. The Fullers. Damn it, why couldn’t they have left well enough alone?

“What the hell are you doing?!” Seth barked in Scott’s direction as he and his sister approached. “I told you to get her out of here!”

They were both in traveling clothes; probably because the original intention was to leave the compound before Seth and Freddie arrived with Richie. Scott was in his usual dark green cargo jacket, jeans and steel-toes. Kate’ was dressed in a soft blue button down blouse over a white top, dark washed jeans and boots; the silver cross necklace still around her neck. Seth had to admit he was relieved to see Kate, not only fully recuperated, but in earthy colors again compared to the gothic train-wreck she was under Amaru’s control. And he hadn’t seen the Fullers in almost a month since trekking down in Xibalba with Freddie.

“Yah like I could’ve stopped her from coming dipshit.” Scott retorted; scowling at Seth. “She wanted to be here; practically twisted my arm until I turned the truck around.”

“So even with all that snake mojo you couldn’t have carried her back to Bethel?” Seth felt like he was gonna burst a blood vessel; grimacing. “When I called you I specifically told you to take Kate and leave. So why the hell haven’t you two hit the road yet?”

Kate resented that. 

“I’m not made of glass Seth so you can cut the macho bullshit because I’m not going anywhere.” She inhaled deeply sweeping her long brown hair behind her ears; looking back at the older Gecko brother with glinted green eyes. Kate’s response however reared on derisive. “And it’s nice to see you too by the way.”

Seth knitted his brows together blinking at the girl. “Oh what, you think I’m not glad Queen Bitch isn’t wearing you to the monster Cotillion?”

“I don’t know Seth, are you?”

This was unbelievable. He’d barely seen Kate for two seconds and they were already arguing. Dealing with Richie in a state of absolute insanity was weighing him down as it was. Did Kate really believe that Seth just wanted her to leave and never come back? This was supposed to be for her own protection; Seth couldn’t let Kate bare witness to the thing his brother had become. He couldn’t imagine what she was going through after Amaru and knowing of the sacrifice Richie had made; this would just torture her as much as it was torturing him.

“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded petulantly; putting his hands on his hips.

“Never mind.” 

Kate shook her head; reluctant to go further into detail. She didn’t want to fight with Seth. There were just too many unresolved issues between them to sort though and she wasn’t ready dive into any of them yet; not until she had a chance to see and speak with Richie. He’d been on her mind since waking up from that coma and learning what he’d done for her.

“So where is he?” Kate asked dolefully; holding herself.

Seth licked his lips; scratching at his eyebrow. Obviously he wasn’t getting rid of her any time soon; so no sense beating around the bush.

“He’s ah, in the back,” replied the older Gecko brother solemnly; motioning his head to the door of the storage unit. “The good ranger and I sorta had a fine time tussling Richie into the cell; but we got him in there.”

Scott scowled suspiciously but Kate’s expression fell disheartened; like she was horrified of the very idea that Seth had locked up his own brother.

“You put him in a cage?” 

“Well I didn’t exactly have a lot of options at my disposal, princess,” Seth gibed apathetically. “He was out of control; I had to detain him somehow.”

Unable to believe what she was hearing, Kate promenaded from Scott’s side; frantically barging past Seth, heading for the door of the storage unit. Unsuccessful when the older Gecko brother caught her by the arm.

“Whoa, where the hell do you think you’re going?”

Kate glared at Seth; yanking her arm away. “I’m going to see Richie.”

“Kate don’t!” Scott beseeched fearfully.

“What are you fucking nuts? You just got out of the hospital for Christ sakes!” barked the older Gecko brother. “I told you Gonzalez and I had to wrestle Richie into that cell; while he was going stark raving Jekyll/Hyde insane! I’m pretty sure he’s not looking to catch up over cappuccinos anytime soon.”

“Well what do you wanna do Seth? Keep him locked up until he starves to death? He’s probably traumatized.”

The older Gecko brother’s eyes were gimlet as he stared through the dismayed young woman. 

“You’re not going in there. If I have to take your knees out to stop you I will.” Kate wasn’t at all surprised by Seth’s threat, mean spirited as it sounded; she didn’t even flinch. But she could clearly see the guilt swirling around in his face as he rubbed at his forehead; softening his voice. “Look I’m handling it alright. So why don’t you and the kid head home where you belong.”

“No.” Her stolid reply stunned Scott. 

Seth was taken aback. “Excuse me?”

“You heard what I said.” Taking a deep breath then exhaling, Kate moved towards the older Gecko brother; her facial expression serious. “I’m not going anywhere; this is my home now. Scott, Richie and you are my home so get used to it.” 

Kate was done listening to Seth; firmly standing her ground. She knew he cared about her underneath all his garbage; and in some twisted way maybe thought he was protecting her, but he was smothering her. Ever since Kate’s family had met the Gecko brothers she’d taken their crap, tried to make the best out of a crummy situation; but where did it ever get her? Abandoned, killed then possessed by a demon. High time she took a shot at that chip on Seth’s shoulder. 

Waiting briefly Kate chewed her lower lip; gaze drifting downward then back at the young man in the drenched black suit. “Richie needs us both; I can’t just walk away from him anymore than you can. He’s already paid a high price for saving our lives; we owe it to do all we can to help him.”

Seth scrutinized her statement; like he was deciphering a hidden code within the subtext.

“You sure this isn’t about cleansing some guilty conscience over the shit Queenie put you through.”

“It’s about helping Richie.” 

At least that’s what she told herself. But was Seth’s accusation true? Did Kate’s missionary complex stem from the things Amaru had done while possessing her?

As she turned back for the door, Seth’s eyes felt heavy with sorrow; thinking of his brother’s catatonic condition. It became too much, prompting him to block Kate’s path; avoiding her gaze. He didn’t care if she ended up hating him; this was for her own good as well as Richie’s.

“I’m sorry Kate I can’t let you go.” Seth protested hollowly. “You don’t wanna see him like this trust me.”

“I’m going in there Seth. If you wanna stop me, you’re gonna have to shoot me; something I know you’re all too familiar with.” OUCH! That remark hit Seth below the belt. Obviously Kate hadn’t gotten over that bullet wound he’d given her while Amaru was in the driver’s seat of her body. And judging by the harsh tone of her voice Kate was far from finished. “I’ve already been shot four times now; the first two bullets killed me. And that pain has become nothing more than scare tissue.”

Seth’s face fell guiltily licking his lips. Much as he wanted to explain things to Kate he deflected the discussion back on Richie.

“He’s not himself; he doesn’t even remember me…let alone who the hell he is. What makes you think he’s gonna go Total Recall for you, huh?”

Kate swallowed hard; exchanging uncertain looks between Seth and Scott. Even she wasn’t all that sure of how to assist. The young woman just sensed that Richie needed her and she couldn’t turn him away; not again.

“I don’t know,” she muttered wistfully; touching the cross with her fingertips. “I guess…I just have faith that he’ll come back to us… the same way he believed I would.”

That was it. Seth couldn’t stop her; not after that. Made her mind up the second she got out of that truck. Even if he could overpower the decision from her hands, did he really want to? Kate wanted to see Richie; just as he’d been waiting to see her again for a year….maybe longer.

“Whatever, I gotta headache and I smell like piss,” Seth jeered defeated; rubbing his eyes. “You guys do what you want; I’m going to take a shower.” 

And he stalked off bitterly.

“I don’t like this Kate, it’s too dangerous.” Scott objected wearily; watching his sister grasp the door handle. “I’ll come with you just to make sure Frankenstein doesn’t try anything.”

Kate forwarded her palms in front of her preternatural brother.

“No Scott, I need to do this alone. Just give me a few minutes.”

Turning the knob, Kate entered the threshold of the storage unit; eyes chiefly analyzing the space as she shut the door. It was chilly and gave off a grim essence in the dark bluish tinge of light catching the floor. There were no windows for the sun’s rays to infiltrate the unit just vents blowing in air from outside; compatible conditions for culebras. And Kate didn’t have to look very far to spot the abundant cubic holding cell sitting in the middle of the room. Placidly she advanced; heartbeat quickening when she noticed a shadowy feral silhouette crouched in the corner.

“Richie?”

No answer only meager grunts and throaty growls. But she recognized hints of his voice within each breath. As Kate drew nearer a beam of light overhead cast down on Richie’s muscle toned form; exposing the vicious scars and purple bruising next to some older scars covering his back. They were healing at an alarmingly slow pace; blood drying around the edges of each wound. It looked like he’d been savagely beaten and possibly tortured. Kate couldn’t contain her emotions as her eyes welled-up. 

“Oh my god.” She gasped frozen inches from the cage.

In the act of putting her palm to the steel net GRRRRRR! The culebra’s head jerked in Kate’s direction; roaring as he charged forward snapping his scarlet stained jaws. A heavy chain cuffed around his throat, connected to the other end, restrained the creature from slamming into the wall. Kate let out an aghast squeal jumping backwards; covering her mouth with both hands. The horrific sight of him gutted her.

Richie’s matted wet hair hung over his eyes like a dark greasy veil. The only clothes he had on were a torn pair of pants caked in mud and patches of blood residue; displaying his finely chiseled yet brutally maimed abdomen. No footwear; leaving a mild trail of red prints on the concrete floor. Richie’s handsome pale face was effectively deformed into a greenish reptilian façade; scales, elongated fangs and slit irises. Gone were those dazzling yet soft rhinestone blue windows into his soul. Not a trace of the man she’d met back at the Dew Drop Inn anywhere. Nothing even remotely human or familiar; and the longer she stared the more torturous it was. 

Kate had seen dozens of culebras. She’d viewed Scott’s serpent face a few times but never Richie’s; and this was unsettling for her. He’d always remained practical whenever she was with him; like it was his way of assuring her that he was still Richie Gecko. While imprisoned under Amaru she’d glimpsed Richie’s crazy red-eyed shadow-self at the asylum; somehow this felt so much worse. At least his dark persona had some semblance of humanity left; this pitiful drooling creature was monstrous.

“What did they do to you?” Her timid voice trailed off. Kate was trembling but she fought to compose herself. What if he could sense her fear and it was incensing him? Cautiously she circled around the cell to the sealed door; gazing into his face feebly through the bars. “Richie it’s me; its Kate.”

The culebra viciously hissed, baring his teeth at her; flailing under the chains. But the young woman kept her voice steady as she continued to verbally address him.

“Come on Richie I know you’re still in there; please say something.”

RAWRRRR! 

Kate winced. Her emerald eyes glinted while they locked gazes. She felt so hopeless standing there; overwhelmed with diverging feelings. Kate needed to hear Richie’s voice one more time; what she’d give to be able to talk to him like before. Take back the last thing she’d said to him before dying at the blood well. There had to be some plausible way of getting through to him. Just as she’d called it quits; her fingertips brushed against the cross dangling from the chain around her neck; giving her an idea.

“Remember this?” Kate desperately persisted at Richie; encouraging his attention to the necklace entwined between her fingers. “You kept this for me…while I was Amaru’s prisoner. And you gave it to Seth…to give back to me the day you made that sacrifice… Well…it found me.” 

Richie released a throaty growl; inclining his head as she took a seat on a chair next to the cage. Eyelids drooped over her clasped hands in her lap; Kate proceeded.

“I was in the hospital recovering from a coma while you were away; loss of blood.” She let out a mirthful laugh then paced herself. “When I finally came to…Scott was the only one at my bedside; you, Seth, Ranger Gonzalez… were nowhere around. And then…Scott gave me the necklace…told me what happened…” 

Kate was consumed in pain reminiscing of the demon queen but she’d needed to vent. “It’s bits and pieces now yet I can still feel Amaru’s essence inside me…see the lives she took…and the people she hurt; especially the people I care about… it’s like a cancer eating away at every part of my soul.” Anguished tears rolled down Kate’s cheeks as she held her hand over her mouth; sickened. But her dismal tone seemed to alleviate Richie’s ferocity; as if he were regarding her words. “I remember what she made me do to my brother…to Seth…and to you…at the asylum… And I hate her for it. I hate her so much.” 

Breathing deeply she swallowed hard, dolefully surveying the culebra; bushing hair behind her ears. 

“But...just as you saw into my soul once…through her I got to see inside yours…” Kate confessed slouching in the chair; wiping at the tears. “I saw everything…how much you suffer inside…what you and Seth went through growing up…your mom…your dad…the fire……your uncle…Santanico…all of it.” Hesitating mid-way she licked her lips. “I witnessed the good and bad things…but more importantly I saw how much Seth means to you…and how much I meant to you.”

Richie’s lip curled snarling as Kate sniffled wiping her face; yet the tears kept coming. 

“I don’t know why I’m telling you this; I can’t even tell Scott.” She murmured solemnly; looking away from him. “I guess I always felt I could talk to you about anything weighing on my mind; and you wouldn’t laugh or judge me. Strangely enough…you made me feel comfortable that way…and I don’t even know what we were supposed to be to each other... Were we…friends? Accomplices? Or something else? It’s confusing. ”

The culebra’s growling dimmed; peering incessantly at the girl through the diamond shaped holes. For a second Kate sensed she could see Richie peeking back at her through the creatures serpent glare. Hope rekindled itself. Kate hugged her slender arms around her body; sifting her mind for something uplifting and paused on a specific thought.

“I had this dream…while I was recuperating in the hospital…that we were back at the pool area in the Dew Drop Inn; talking about random things over cigarettes.” Kate in spite of the sadness found herself smiling; then looked back at Richie. “We were just two ordinary people….searching for a connection… Something I think we found in each other the day we met.” 

An influx of emotion instantly washed over Kate as she rose from the chair; leaning her forehead against the cell squeezing back more tears. She didn’t even think about the risk of agitating the unpredictable creature any further than her presence might’ve done. 

“I miss you Richie...” She lamented; placing her hand against the bars as tears fled from her eyes. “And I forgive you… I just want to hear your voice again.” 

Suddenly the room went dead quiet. Kate could no longer hear Richie’s throaty growls anymore. Had she gone deaf? Then a warm sensation overcame Kate; tickling her skin. Glancing up she realized the towering culebra’s arm was stretched outward, pressing the palm of his hand against hers through the wall of the cell. And Kate could see that Richie’s eyes were moist. Her heart beat faster, exchanging pensive glances between their joined hands and his face.

“K-Kate...” he rasped; struggling to find the words.

A gush of relief settled in. “Richie?!” She euphorically responded.

The culebra managed a strange grunting noise. Kate didn’t pay any attention. She was overjoyed listening to that beautiful voice of his; and it was just as she remembered. For a whole month Kate pondered if she’d ever hear him sputter those syllables; let alone ever see him again. Every time Richie said her name it was like a somber evening breeze just as the sun was setting; layered in a melancholy passion. However Kate’s delight was put on hold, zeroing in on the chain around Richie’s neck; chafing the skin to the point where it was raw and bloody.

“You’re bleeding everywhere,” she blurted clutching her chest; peering at him with intense agony. “I’ve gotta get that thing off.” 

Richie disengaged from Kate; head ticking nervously. Not giving it another thought to the consequences of the danger; the young woman lifted the latch and undid the seal on the door. Startled, the culebra retracted his steps; putting little distance between himself and Kate, mimicking a timid zoo animal. What the hell was she thinking?!

This was probably the stupidest most reckless thing she’d ever done; not counting the blood well. If Richie didn’t kill her, Seth and Scott probably would. Stuck in a hell dimension for god knows how long, undergoing excruciating physical pain; he was time bomb. Still the only thing that cut through Kate’s fear for her life was her unwavering trust in Richie. Her belief that he wouldn’t harm her gave Kate courage. Slowly she walked inside; approaching him with caution. If he’d let her get close enough she could remove or at the very least loosen those awful restraints. 

But the culebra wasn’t having any of it; anxiously hurtling his massive body into a dark corner of the cage rattling the containment.

“It’s alright Richie,” Kate soothed him gently; raising her hands submissively. “I just want to help you…I promise…”

Richie’s frigid tall form began shaking as he sunk into a crouching position; holding his knees to his chest. His withdrawnness reminded Kate of an abused child; damaged and afraid. Pull yourself together, she scolded inside; your distress will only anguish him. Amaru immediately sprung to mind watching the erratic culebra; Kate had battled with a powerful demon inside her body for a year. And she hadn’t fully recovered from the ordeal. What he’d experience was possibly ten times more detrimental. It made Kate wonder if Richie subconsciously felt he was still trapped in Xibalba; alone without hope.

Reptilian eyes dolefully fixated on her; Richie’s head sloped to the side. “K-Kate…” his tone sounded so conflicted; doubtful of her intentions.

Bracing herself, the young woman knelt before the creature at eye level. Sucking fresh air into her lungs Kate spoke softly. “You’re safe now.” She assured him. “That place can’t hurt you anymore.”

He averted her face; hiding under the dark mop of wet bangs.

“Look at me Richie…look into my eyes.” Moderately he lifted his chin, indulging her request. “It’s just me.” Then Kate discreetly extended her arm out, gently caressing her fingertips against his knuckles; carefully taking his big hand into hers when he didn’t blanch. His skin was so smooth yet cold; and her hand fit seamlessly with his. Richie swallowed sinking deeper into Kate’s shimmering emerald saucers. “See…only me.” 

Sensing she’d won over his trust, Kate felt confident enough to heed in removing the restraints from his throat. First she’d carefully loosened the steel linked hold with her fingers; pausing to make sure she wasn’t causing Richie any discomfort. They were strapped good and tight though Kate managed to disentangle them. Attempting to pull the chain off, the culebra bowed his head; letting her lift it up and over easily. 

“That’s much better.” Kate cooed; giving him a small smile. It vanished when she stared longer into his slit irises; they were dilated. Starvation? Richie was in Xibalba with no way of gaining any sort of nourishment. Who knew how long he’d gone without food or if Seth and the ranger had even thought to feed him after they surfaced? “Oh no…you’re hungry, aren’t you?”

Pressing a palm against her forehead it dawned on Kate and she began rolling up the sleeve of her blouse; exposing the flesh of her right forearm. She’d remembered Scott saying that culebras could feed off humans without the fear of killing or turning them; evident to Seth’s bite scar on his neck from Richie. Nervous as Kate was of those teeth puncturing her flesh; nourishing Richie seemed to out-weight the latter.

“Go ahead.” she insisted, holding her arm in front of the culebra. “Take some; you need it.” 

Richie’s eyes vexed snarling through flared nostrils. “N-no…” he abnegated shaking his head; shunning her.

But Kate wasn’t so easily dismissed; acknowledging in her patient voice cupping his chin with her thumb and index. “I trust you Richie.”

Reluctant at first, the culebra exchanged desperate glances between Kate’s eyes and the spot he’d singled out above her wrist. With both hands he clutched her arm, throwing his head back then penetrated his fangs into flesh; drinking feverishly. Kate let out a mild groan immediately infused with a white hot sensation shooting up her arm searing into her brain; shutting her eyes tightly. Everything inside her exploded. Never had she experienced anything so scorching hot.

As Kate fought to suppress the agony; images of her life before meeting the Geckos flash-forward through her mind like an old movie. Picnics with Scott and their parents in the park. Running on the beach in Hawaii. Kissing the first boy she ever had feelings for behind her family’s church. Such precious memories…each one; yet another heartbreaking reminder of the life she’d left behind. And it was a lie. The only thing that remained real was the love she felt for family…and how much it still hurt to lose them.

Eventually the pain subsided and she’d completely ignored Richie guzzling from the holes he’d pierced into her skin. But Kate could feel her energy vastly draining. Putting her free hand to his head, she gently nudged him backwards. Richie didn’t fight; withdrawing his mouth from Kate’s arm and wiping off the residue with the back of his hand. Amazingly enough, more color seemed to come back into Richie’s greenish complexion. The dilation of his slit pupils receded. Even his hostile temperament had deduced to a tranquil demeanor. He looked much healthier.  
What a relief; looks like that hit the spot, she thought, rolling down her sleeve over the bite mark. At least he wasn’t growling anymore. Kate’s gaze however drifted to the red imprint healing instantaneously around his throat from the chain. Browsing downward, the gashes on his stomach were also regenerating. Tenderly with her thumb, Kate kneaded the areas on Richie’s neck over the disappearing marks. 

Her sympathetic touch induced the culebra to close his eyelids; throat rumbling with contentment. Opening them Kate gasped as a riveting pair of familiar gentle beryl pools stared back at her. Human eyes. His human eyes; which were now swimming in sorrow. Kate’s hand dropped from Richie’s neck and his face instinctively reverted back into a handsome young man. Lips, cheekbones, that strong jawline; he was an Adonis. She could see him again. Kate gaped at the luminous turquoise bouncing off Richie’s pallor enhancing the radiance of his skin. The same beautiful contours she had so long dearly missed peering at. 

“There you are.” Emotion stung at her eyes as she’d responded airily. “I knew I’d find you.”

Tears instantly spilt down Richie’s cheeks; whole body shuddering. He was crying. Kate didn’t hesitate to reach out her hand and caress his wet face; trailing her fingers up towards his bangs brushing them out of his eyes. The sight of him so tortured devastated her. What had he been through? How did he survive? Everything about that haunted despair in his gaze puzzled her as much as it pained her. But Kate knew he wasn’t ready to let her in; not yet.”

“It’s okay.” she told him locking her mournful eyes with his; voice nearly a whisper. “You don’t have to tell me.”

Bottom lip jutting out; Richie moved closer resting his head on top of Kate’s lap. She quietly held him, stroking her fingers through his disheveled brown hair; allowing the culebra a moment of vulnerability which he’d rarely shown anyone, not even his brother. The last time Kate witnessed Richie’s armor crack happened that night by the well; she’d never forget those remorseful tears in his eyes. 

“There’s no more love left Richard; I hope you burn in Hell” she’d cursed at him with her final breath. But in her heart Kate knew such hate wasn’t true; not then…and not now.  
As night wore down Kate woefully sat in the dark cell, cradling Richie’s keening head in her arms; unaware of Seth and Scott pessimistically peeking through the door of the storage unit.  
________________________________________

The Winchesters’ Impala...

…Present time…

… Sunday 10:18 pm

Dean Winchester clenched his jaw gripping the wheel tightly as he skidded through the Albuquerque streets behind the Geckos 60s cougar. Often rushing past red lights. Sam sat in the passenger seat; rubbernecking the window at the chaos unfolding around them. Explosions, power outages, people running scared; civilians being attacked by hordes of the dead. Just when the bravado hunter didn’t think things would get this bad…they got worse in the form of a telephone pole collapsing; which luckily he managed to serve and miss.

How the hell did this mission go sour so quickly? Dean found himself pounding on the stirring wheel, cursing under his breath in frustration almost the entire ride back to the compound. Willet had one-upped them astronomically; something the older Winchester brother couldn’t stand. And aside from the bitterness of being unable to prevent the necromancer’s impending apocalypse, Mary had become a prisoner and notch in the old hombre’s scheme. Castiel meanwhile took off on some lone wolf mission; without so much as a phone call. And Sam hadn’t spoken two words to Dean since they’d grabbed the car over at the school. The bravado hunter was beginning to think his brother was subtly holding a grudge.

They didn’t need this now. Smack in the middle of a building war between the living and the dead; Dean did not want to be battling with Sam too. There was too much to worry about starting with how they were going to rescue their mother and saving the world…again. On the bright side it didn’t look like they were flying solo in this fight what with their ex-criminal accomplices Seth and Richie Gecko. So when Dean couldn’t find a decent song on the radio to cut the awkward silence, receiving only emergency broadcasts about the chaos occurring that night; he’d switched it off in hopes of breaking the ice with Sam.

“Damn it!” he snapped at the windshield. “This thing is spreading faster than a hooker with an STD.” Dean glanced at Sam for a reaction; getting not even a mumble as his attention remained on the window with his chin propped up on his palm. The bravado hunter immediately knew who his brother was thinking about; giving him a friendly pat on the knee. “Hey ah, penny for your thoughts Sam; come on let’s have it.” 

“Do you really even need me to say it?” Sam derided melancholy toned; lowering his eyes. 

Dean could detect a hint of resentment in his brother’s voice. Figured the best way to approach the conversation was offer a little hope. Sam was a brooding type, the bravado hunter was aware of this; he tended to sulk inside himself whenever things were bad. 

“No…you don’t,” Dean responded grimly; eyes fixated on the road in front of him and the license plate of the cougar. Then he rubbed at his nose. “We’re gonna get her back Sammy I promise.”

“How?!” the taller hunter snapped back. His voice was still a bit scratchy from strangulation yet firmly combative; at least he was speaking to his brother again. “We don’t even know how to stop these things or what they want with mom. I mean you were out there Dean; it was a setup. Willet jacked us over!” 

“Hey we’re not down for the count yet Rocky alright; we still have another round to go.” Dean’s sadistic glare was practically burning a hole through the glass of the windshield. “Besides, somebody’s gotta send these bonehead douchebags straight back to the gutter hole they crawled out of. And it ain’t gonna be the Alamo.”

The taller hunter wasn’t convinced. 

“Look around you Dean!” Sam flailed his arms at the mayhem escalating outside the vehicle. “Willet’s already jumpstarted the apocalypse; we’re nowhere closer to slamming this case shut then we were last night! So many people are out there dying because of us! He planned for this…probably for a while.” The taller hunter paused looking downward; cheeks throbbing. “And now he’s got mom.”

Dean clinched throwing up a hand in front of his brother; shushing him.

“Stop it Sam! Enough of that crap.” He snorted harshly. “If the friggin world’s falling apart; I don’t need you too as well.” Dean sighed stroking his jaw guiltily and glanced at Sam; rolling his shoulders encouragingly. “And you know mom, she can handle herself; she’s tough just like dad was. He’s not gonna kill her…not yet?”

“How do you know?”

“Because good ol’ boy Willet needs mom alive for something,” the bravado hunter reminded his brother cheekily; then pointed at Seth and Richie’s cougar ahead. “Same way he wants the Project Runway twins over there alive…. He called mom the wandering soul; there’s gotta be reason he chose her. And after that Quick and the Dead stunt pulled back at the cemetery…man my Spidey sense tells me our new lizard buddies know more about these hooded Hellraisers than they’re letting on.”

Sam scrutinized at Dean; cocking a brow. “You’re saying the Geckos know what Willet’s planning? What gave you that impression?”

“Meh, it’s just a gut feeling I have Sammy.” Dean shrugged; stirring to the right. “Spectacles kinda gave himself up when he laid the strong arm on Cowpoke Vader.”  
The taller hunter nodded. It was true; Richie had shown his deck of cards when he’d threatened to pull the plug on the old hombre’s scheme. Sam wasn’t in a coherent enough state after nearly being choked to death; but Dean heard the entire conversation between Willet and the vampire. To some degree these Geckos were important to the necromancers.

“Makes sense based on what Cass told us about them.” Sam agreed hazily. “He saw ancient Mayan images depicted inside both Seth and Richie when he healed them. Willet’s targeting them for a purpose.”

Stalling midway through his thought Dean blew air out his cheeks. “Yah but then again…that crazy kid did save your life so I guess I should cut him a little slack for that.”  
The younger Winchester brother frowned languidly; staring down at his hands then back at his older sibling.

“Yah…” Sam muttered; his voice nearly drifting before it picked up some pep. “Hey, what’s his deal anyway? I mean…I thought we had issues but Richie’s just straddling on a thin line. You think he was serious?”

“About what?”

“Killing himself?”

Dean’s face was somber wiping his nose; jawline twitching. “I don’t really got an answer for that Sam. Hardly know the guy.” He waited briefly then scratched at the stubble on his face. “But I’ve been on that ledge…so I know a thing or two about darkness…and it’s a very lonely place to be at. Looking into those eyes…there’s a lot of pent up rage resonating in that kid…and pain. Something tells me he hates himself more than anything else.”

Sam and Dean went silent as their conversation with Castiel from the other night flooded their thoughts. The angel told them not just significant things he’d picked up from the Geckos while healing them…but deeper aspects of the vampire and his unusual condition. Richie wasn’t like other culebras. As it turned out he possessed a partially human soul; he was a pariah. And the bravado hunter didn’t need special glasses to sense how tormented and damaged Richie was beneath his composed mask of derisive confidence. From the second Dean watched the young man in the suit place that barrel under his chin, threatening to end his life; the older Winchester brother was aware the desperation was real.

Richie intended to pull the trigger; he wanted to. There was almost nothing that would’ve stopped him from doing it. Preventing Willet’s end goal was only half of the vampire’s intention. Dean shuddered thinking of the horrific outcome had Seth not come when he did. Whatever Richie’s personal demons were they’d only begun to dangerously manifest. Much as the bravado hunter hadn’t been fond of the younger Gecko brother he found himself pondering; why on earth does this kid despise himself so much? Richie was more at war inside than he was out in the cemetery battling those corpses. Immortal or not he certainly had a death wish.

These Geckos were still a mystery to Sam and Dean. Technically they’d spent two nights and a day with them; not really enough to figure the boys out. The only thing the hunters got in that limited time frame was Seth and Richie’s similar love for muscle cars; guns, movies, Big Kahuna Burger fetishes, a criminal past, and ties to the supernatural. Either than that the Winchesters had absolutely no idea who the Gecko brothers were as people; apart from saving their lives a few times and being kidnapped by them Dean couldn’t really pinpoint if these kids were just a couple of bad apples or diamonds in the rough. He’d seen glimmers of their humanity; maybe even potential. But the Winchesters were relying exceptionally on this alliance; lack of trust wasn’t an option.

Just then Sam’s jacket pocket began buzzing against his side; quickly he dug out his cell. Speak of the devil; it was Richie Gecko on the ID. He was probably calling to update them on the plan.

Sam cleared his throat. “Hey.” he crackled in the receiver; vocals still a bit strained.

“I just thought you should know we’re pulling over to check the car,” Richie stated despondently on the other end. “Seth thinks he might’ve busted the front fender slamming into Z Nation when we made our escape.”

Huh, well at least it wasn’t terrible news.

“Okay, Dean’s pretty good with mechanics,” uttered the hunter; rubbing at his face. Glancing at his brother in the driver’s seat Sam was met with a sulking expression. “He’ll give you a hand.”

There was a short but awkward pause before the culebra answered.

“Sure, but you might wanna think about keeping those bullets handy while we’re out there. Cross’s undead goons are multiplying by the masses.”

The taller hunter’s breathing quickened as he gawked out the window. “So we’ve noticed.”

The line went dead and the taller hunter closed the cell back into his cargo jacket. Dean in the meantime paralleled off the side of the road; parking the impala behind the black cougar. They were still in central city limits which weren’t exactly the safest place for the boys. However if one of their cars had stopped working along the way then they’d really be in trouble.  
Departing from the vehicles Dean hoped the damage on the Geckos’ ride wasn’t too severe. Sure enough when he circled to the front of the car with Sam and the ex-criminal brothers it looked a little dented; thick slabs of blood and black goo smeared over the hood and headlights. Fortunately the glass on the windshield hadn’t cracked when Seth hit those corpses full on by the gate.

“Not gonna lie to ya fellas,” Dean confirmed; pressing his hand on the hood of the car. “From this angle your girl looks a little beat up.”

This wasn’t what the Geckos wanted to hear. Not while they were dodging a growing army of zombies on the way back to the compound.

“Nice going dickhead!” Richie chided coldly at his mortal sibling; clapping his hands sarcastically. “You just had to waste time mowing down those damn things like fucking bowling pins. Brilliant plan brother.”

Seth’s face heatedly frowned. “Richard if it weren’t for me you and these flannel rejects would’ve been the old man’s bitches right about now.”

“Hey I was handling it.”

“Oh yah sure you were you,” The older Gecko brother dismissively shook his head; guffawing. “Just like when you handled Cross, huh?” 

Richie scowled defensively. “Would it have been better if I’d just let him take your head off? Would that have won your approval Seth?”

Damn it! Someone had to play middle man in this squabble before it turned ugly. Sam being the giant quickly nominated himself; stepping between the two brothers with both hands up. This was the last place to be drawing attention especially when they all had a target on their backs. Monsters were crawling from all concrete crevasses of the city; standing around arguing while attempting to fix a car wasn’t exactly smart.

“Okay, time out guys; we don’t need this crap.” Sam barged in; exchanging peeved expressions at Seth and Richie. “We’re all stressed out as it is. But we’ve got monsters trying to kill us and people counting on us. So whatever your issues are, bury it until we deal with the Circle.”  
Seth and Richie synchronously narrowed their eyes at Sam. 

“And the apocalypse!” Dean tossed in smartly; then switched back to the condition of the cougar. “Oh and by the way I never said the car wasn’t fixable. Just give me a little time in the garage with my tools and Miss Honeybunny here’ll be purring like a kitten.”

“Well we don’t have a garage at our disposal Tim Taylor,” Seth snorted argumentatively. “And I really don’t wanna be dicking around over this shit while the undead are circling for a midnight snack. Just patch it up with some duct tape for now and let’s hit the road.”

Richie’s jaw unhinged appallingly turning to his brother; backhanding him in the chest.

“Didn’t Uncle Eddie teach you anything about mechanics, brother?” scolded the vampire. “And I seem to recall you taking shop classes in high school; which you said you aced with flying colors. Now you’re taking tips from the Red Green Show?”

Seth’s face went beat red; fake coughing. “I ah…I sorta flunked shop class.” He meekly admitted hunching over; subtly trying to hide the embarrassment. 

“What?”

“Yah I sucked what I can say. I can pretty much hotwire anything but I’m no mechanic. And I didn’t wanna disappoint Uncle Eddie so I...got Jimmy Machines to forge the grade on my report card.”

“Jimmy Machines? The kid with the metal-mouth?”

Seth nodded.

The vampire just shook his head; rubbing both sides of his temple with his fingers like he was getting a migraine.

“When I said that you should apply yourself better; that didn’t mean cheating Seth. You really are an idiot.” 

The older Gecko brother pressed his lips together; glowering. “Yah whatever bite me.”

“Tempting.”

“Hey ladies!” Dean piped at the Geckos. “Quit the yacking you’re making my friggin ears bleed.”

But just as the bravado hunter crouched in front of the bumper to get a better look; an arm shot out from under the vehicle GRAWRRRR! 

“DEAN LOOK OUT!” Sam shouted frantically.

Dean stumbled backwards on the gravel nearly hitting his head as the hideous decomposing creature, missing its lower half, crawled after him; black guts and intestines trailing behind the oozing yet mobile torso. Its head was squished in with flesh and muscle torn almost entirely off his face as it waggled its broken jaw; moonlit eyes fiercely hungry. Before the older Winchester brother had time to intervene; BANG! Seth’s snub pistol blasted the thing’s brains out.

Dean breathed a gust of relief as he saw the creature go limp; taking hold the older Gecko brother’s hand when he’d offered. He was lucky this kid was a good shot and didn’t hesitate otherwise that could’ve been a moronic end to Dean’s long career of “saving people, hunting things”. How could he have been so careless? Looking back at Sam’s burdened expression the bravado hunter clued in he was gonna be in for a lecture later.

“I’m getting tired of saving your ass all the time Bravado.” Seth barbed icily; putting his piece away under his suit jacket. “Aren’t you and the Beanstalk here supposed to be the experts on this paranormal shit?”

Richie tightened his lip to prevent laughter while Sam shook his head; cheeks throbbing. 

“Well excuse me Agent 47,” Dean retorted cynically; gesticulating. “I didn’t realize common curtesy had a limit. Sam and me could’ve just kept on rolling and allowed you fellas to get better acquainted with Stubby here.”

URGHHHH! Seth was cut-off from responding when red-haired woman zombie in a grey business suit and skirt lunged behind him; moaning exhaustingly. On cue Dean pulled out his colt and shot the thing down before it made a grab at the bewildered tattoo suited Gecko. Blowing off the smoke from the barrel like a cheesy action hero then putting it away.

“Jesus Christ!” Seth squealed erratically; flailing in the spot he was standing at.

“You’re welcome.” Dean gibed.

The older Gecko brother just threw the bravado hunter a cheeky look.

CRASH! A multi-car collision immediately drew the Winchesters and Geckos attention to the ruined city of Albuquerque in the background. Engulfing flames, blood, smashed apartment building windows, looting, caterwauling, killing; it was a massacre. Fire Engine and police sirens wailed blaringly in every direction. Willet’s army of dead was spreading fast and violently; ripping through neighborhoods like a ravenous great white shark. For a moment Dean thought he was watching a scene from the movie Armageddon; except this time the asteroid succeeded in striking the earth. Standing there with Sam, Seth and Richie, orange light of the fires reflecting off their pallor; the bravado hunter’s heart sank.

They’d failed to prevent this outcome. They’d failed to stop Willet and now his ascension was effectively swallowing up everything and everyone in their path. People of all ages were running in the streets; chased down by the dead. Mutilated victims were seen struggling out of their smashed vehicles limping to safety. Lucifer’s apocalypse, Dick Roman’s Leviathan nightmare; Hell and even Purgatory were walks in the park compared to this. Dean could feel himself seething over the devastation as he balled his fists. Sam and the Geckos were equally obstinate watching the panic overrun the streets. 

“We gotta stop this Dean.” Sam riposted furiously. “Or it really will be over…for all of us.”

“I know.” The bravado hunter growled under his breath; lost in the graphic scenery. “Son of a bitch.”  
Seth leaned in close to Richie’s ear; wearing a deadpanned expression. 

“Looks like we can forget about getting rich, fat and dying in the arms of a beautiful woman sometime in the next century,” assessed the older Gecko brother; folding his arms. “Cause this shit just threw an indefinite notch in our retirement plans.”

“Well…then I guess it’s time we go out guns blazing, brother.” Richie spluttered menacingly; pulling out his Taurus. “Tango and Cash style.”

Seth’s brows knitted confusingly. “I was leaning more towards Gibson and Glover in Lethal Weapon.”

“Oh they were a badass duo no dispute there,” Clarified the vampire. “But I think Stallone and Russell had the edge. It wasn’t just about the explosions or the body count they specialized in; these were just two guys really good at their job who felt they had nothing to lose whereas Riggs and Murtough did. Not to mention Riggs kinda became a pussy in the later sequels compared to the relatable loose cannon he was in original. And Tango and Cash is considered one of the most underrated action movies of all time.”

Seth sighed nodding as he took out his pistol. “Can’t argue with that.” And they tapped barrels turning back to the Winchesters. “Listen boys…since we’re all currently stuck together like Amos and Andy in this little hellion shit show; Richie and I decided this fight…it’s ours too.”

“You sure?” Sam interrogated skeptically at the Geckos. “No backing out?”

“We’re all in.” Richie affirmed stonily; half shrugging. “These bastards have both our people and they’re ascending Xibalba on earth with Amaru’s amulet; changing the game. So the way I see it we stand a better chance stopping the end of the world together than we do apart.”

Sam and Dean traded thoughtful looks then regarded the Geckos.

“It’s gonna get uglier than this,” the bravado hunter gruffly informed the ex-criminal duo; ushering them in the direction of the unfolding chaotic disaster. “If you’re not 100% sure you’re ready to rumble then…walk away man. Sam and I gotta be able to rely on you two when it counts; there ain’t no second guessing when lives are at stake. Either you dance or bow out now.”

Seth’s face became bleak; reloading his pistol with another cartridge. 

“These assholes are already gunning for us and I ain’t going out unless it’s on a remote beach paradise. I earned that.” Stalling mid-sentence the older Gecko brother glanced back at Richie for his approval getting a nod; returning to the Winchesters to finish his thought. “Look…to be honest with you Bravado we’re not heroes or saints and we don’t really care for either of you but…let’s just say Richie and I gotta a particular set of skills you might need down the road and we gotta score to settle with these pricks.”  
The Winchesters nodded; lower lip overlapping the top of their mouths. It wasn’t the most encouraging response but they could live with it as an answer. And truthfully Sam and Dean didn’t want to be taking on Willet or the Circle alone.

“Okay then we- BIZZZZ…BIZZZZ…BIZZZ…“Hold on,” Dean’s cell set on vibrate interrupted the conversation; provoking him to pull it out. If it was another hunter he planned on sending it to voicemail. However to his astonishment the name displayed on the ID was Castiel. After hours without a word the Winchesters were beginning to think the angel had dropped off the face of the planet. Eagerly he put the call on speakerphone. “Cass?! Where the hell are you?”

“Dean, I apologize for the delayed response,” the angel’s raspier voice bristled on the other end. “But I was a little preoccupied with learning the whereabouts of our Xibalban necromancers.”

“Yah well you ah, kinda ditched us back there Clarence.” Seth chastised; putting his hands on his hips. 

“It was not my intention to- there was an awkward pause followed by an impassive sigh. “Wait, am I on speakerphone?”

The Winchesters and the Geckos each traded mischievous smirks then looked down at the cell in Dean’s hand; glancing over their shoulders to make sure more corpses hadn’t noticed them.

“Yep.” The bravado hunter chirped. “Anything important you have to say, you can share in front of the class.”

“Fair enough.” Castiel waited a second before asking. “Is everyone alright, Sam? Mary?”

The taller Winchester frowned gazing at his brother. “We’re all fine but…mom…” Sam let out a harsh sigh; pinching his temple. “Cass, Willet has her.”

“Damn it! I wish you had better news. But there’s an optimistic chance I might be able to get her back if he’s brought her here.”  
Richie furrowed his brows. “Where are you?”

“I followed some of Willet’s aberrations back to City Hall,” Castiel reverberated crustily. “And I’m getting the sense this is where the Circle has been currently residing their base of operations… Most likely they’re holding your friends prisoner here as well.”

The bravado hunter inclined his head. “City Hall?”

“Hold on,” Sam sputtered; reminiscing something valuable which shook up the group. “Dean didn’t that Sugar Skull guy tell you this year’s Day of the Dead chairman was selected through the city?”

It instantly dawned on Dean. “Yah he did.” 

“And that’s where the festival fliers were made.”

Following all the Winchester’s cycling information Richie spontaneously threw his two cents into the detective brainstorm.

“If that’s the case then someone in the Mayor’s office has gotta be a Circle member working on the inside,” the vampire pointed out. “It may even be the Mayor himself. It’s the perfect cover. 

What better way to let a snake through the front door than a disguise like a civil servant.”

Seth tapped Richie’s arm chiming in. “Hey what about the demon queen’s fancy heirloom? How the hell does that fit into all this?”

The culebra cocked his head; pushing up the front of his glasses with his index finger like a college professor.

“From my perspective Amaru’s amulet seems to double Willet’s power which is why he was able to manipulate and control all those zombies, spirits and drones in one go.” Richie suddenly became eerily sinister; facing away from the other three men. “When Amaru got inside my head a couple times; she wasn’t relying on the amulet as a source…not like Willet. As long as he has that thing…our guns and weapons are useless. He’s like the Million Dollar Man… I’ve never read about a necromancer that could do half the shit this guy’s been doing.”

Dean’s face went grim; gnashing his teeth. “Crap! So you’re saying with that damn necklace Old Man Rivers is basically un-killable?”

“Basically.”

Castiel’s end of the line startled to crackle.

“You could be onto something in terms of that amulet,” the despondent angel muttered dryly. “If we could obtain it somehow we might be able weaken Willet enough to annihilate his ascension.”

“Yah but there’s no way of getting near it.” Sam disclosed dourly; tightening his jaw. “Willet’s too powerful and most likely City Hall will be heavily guarded by drones and zombies. We don’t even have an interior outline of the building.”

Dean exchanged eye-rolls with the Geckos; face-palming like Sam had just put his foot in his mouth. First of all his brother was brilliant at hacking into secured software systems. And second the bravado hunter was well aware of how reckless Castiel could be; evident to the numerous times he’d went rouge on the Winchesters. At this point Dean was praying in his mind the angel wasn’t getting any ideas.

“Since I’m already inside, I could sneak around.” Castiel insisted spryly. “I can’t be completely certain they’re aware of my presence but it doesn’t feel as though the necromancers have proofed the building with Enochian sigil. I’ll try to find Mary or the amulet if I’m able.”

Too late!

Seth and Richie’s eyebrows rose astonished but Dean shook his head disapprovingly; tightly clutching the cell in his hand

“Whoa slam on those breaks a minute Tom Cruise, that plan sucks,” he felt like he was lecturing a naïve adolescent; face patchy. “You’re in a friggin maze man; wait till we get down there before going Mission Impossible!”

There was sadness mingled in the angel’s gravelly voice as he responded. And right then the Winchesters sensed they’d lost the debate.

“I’m sorry Dean but we only have one chance to stop this apocalypse and I’m taking it.” 

“Cass just wait there for us, damn it!”

“I am truly sorry.”

CLICK!

“Cass? Cass! Son of a bitch!” 

“That went well.” Seth barbed sardonically. 

Sam ignored the insensitivity of the older Gecko brother and turned to his distressed sibling; anxiously rubbing at his stubble. “Dean, what are we gonna do? Cass is no match for those things and if they learn he’s a celestial being...”

“It’s suicidal.” Richie shook his head impassively; voice equally stoic. “Captain Feathers is gonna get himself killed at this rate.”

Dean could feel his temperature rising pressing both palms either side of his head; wanting to chuck his cell phone at something so bad. Instead he fought to push the irate out of his system before stewing over the situation further; turning back to the awaiting group. 

“We gotta go get him.” He intonated.

Seth’s faced soured in protest at the bravado hunter. “Are you fucking mental?! After what we just went through at Horror-Land hours ago?”

“But Kate could be there, Seth; and Mary.” Richie riposted his mortal sibling sullenly. “If there’s a shot at getting them both back we gotta take it.”

Sam and Dean nodded agreeably.

“And Cass’s right we need to get that amulet so if that means entering the belly of the beast to do it…I’m going out swinging.” Dean deliberated; face hardening as he squared his shoulders at the Gecko brothers. “You said you wanted in this fight; well saddle up fellas cause we got an appointment with the Mayor. But first…we gotta detour to Fat Burger.”

Seth raised a brow critically. “Why?”

“Because I am friggin hungry dude.”  
________________________________________

City Hall, Albuquerque. Sunday, 10:30 pm

Castiel efficiently skulked down a concrete stairwell where he’d slipped in through the back exit of the building; following the iron rails leading down several flights from the main floor. Each level he’d briefly stopped at had a landing. Moments ago outside he’d used his blade on corpses as well as a few drones in order to sneak past security. So far so good. It was fortunate for the angel that there was no Enochian Sigil seals within the interior of City Hall; and his stealth skills came in handy otherwise the infiltration might’ve not gone as smoothly. Castiel was also precise about every detail in movement he made in pursuit of a culebra drone carrying a tray of edibles.

He was a lean, shorter and medium built biker guy dressed in leather with a bushy black mustache and long pony tail; neck covered in skull and snake tattoos. The very same drone bodyguard he’d seen at the festival in the cemetery; monitoring the four dancing druids just before Willet appeared. 

Previously, the angel had overheard one of the maroon hooded figures give their minion an order to deliver food in the basement compartment for a prisoner before moving them off the premises later. Castiel could only assume their captive individual was either Mary Winchester or probably one of the Geckos’ people; wasting no time heeding after the drone. Ducking under security cameras with his face tucked inward; peeking around corners in hopes of not being spotted. If Dean could only see him now he’d probably make some witty film referenced remark about the angel emulating a secret agent; which was exactly the opposite of how Castiel felt inside.

The angel’s facial exterior was hardened like cold steel; blue lapses eyes alert and calculous. And his beige trench coat which was surprisingly clean of dirt and blood considering that undead brawl he’d endured back at San Jose de Armijo, trailed behind him. Clutching his weapon in hand Castiel finally entered the basement level; scouring the area for signs of life as he stalked the long corridor of cement and steel. Lights flickered on and off in between the leaking pipes of the ceiling above. Hiding behind a wall, Castiel noticed the pony-tail man in leather and tattoos approached a set of automatic doors guarded by another heavier set drone. Well with his covertness it probably wouldn’t be that hard to sneak past him unnoticed.

Common, lead me to Mary, the angel thought incessantly watching as the guard used some kind of keycard to grant access for the drone carrying its food tray. 

The energy in the lower deck felt benevolent yet faint; there was definitely a presence of a human soul lingering. Whether or not that spark belonged to Sam and Dean’s mother the angel was sure to find out soon enough. Castiel was quickly on his toes like a weightless phantom ninja; ambushing the drone guard from behind, swiping the creature’s keycard out of its pocket before smiting him into nothing but burning cinders. He then slipped through the automatic doors, keeping a safe distance between himself and the biker drone shuffling aimlessly down the hall.

Each metal cell door was seaweed green with a number engraved on the front. The drone didn’t have to walk very far to reach his destination; vacantly pausing at a specific holding cell. Using his own keycard, the creature ran it through the detector, generating a buzzing noise which granted him immediate entry. Castiel remained patiently scarce until the drone left the cell. When he finally did leave in the opposite direction, the angel carefully approached cell #3; peeking inside through the small window. Far as he could tell there was no sign of Mary; if she was there she might’ve been leaning against the wall in a corner.

No sense wasting valuable minutes in case someone became suspicious; whoever was being held inside he needed to get to them. With the keycard handy, Castiel swapped it through the slot unlocking the automatic cell door and proceeded inside. It was a dreary, frigid small space smelling of rust, sweat and stale viscera; no more discomforting than a jail cell. His eyes scanned every nook and cranny. 

Mary Winchester was nowhere in sight but what Castiel did pick up on was a pale girl with long matted brown hair sitting against the wall on a cemented bench; knees propped up to her chest. The silver cross around her neck gave the angel a distinct impression that she’d come from a thoroughly religious background. Her attractive porcelain complexion was covered in smudges of dirt and scrapes where the dried blood flaked around the edges. And for some reason this girl’s face felt unusually familiar.

Tilting his head sideways squinting, the angel noticed her eyes were languid…almost empty; unaware that he was even in the room. A tray of food was placed on the icy floor in front of her; untouched. The girl’s wrists and ankles were bound in heavy steel shackles connected to the wall with extensive chains; closer Castiel got he could see an ancient encryption of symbols engraved around each cuff. These restraints were protected by very powerful magic he wasn’t familiar with. But her face…where had he seen it? 

Dawning on the angel instantly as he hid his weapon under his sleeve; reminiscing his ride down to the Marigold Festival with the Geckos. Castiel was in the backseat, subtly watching Richie stare at a partially blurry selfie of a pretty young woman in his cellphone. And he remembered Seth and Richie throwing around her name earlier…Kate. Putting the two together Castiel came to the conclusion this captive girl was in fact the person they were both seeking. Puttering towards the far corner where she was sitting, crouching in front of her; Castiel somberly extended his hand out in an attempt to gently touch her shoulder. He didn’t want to startle this girl keeping very stonily calm.

But just before Castiel’s fingers grazed the fabric of her white top; two glistening emerald pools locked onto him. Her previous despondent expression rapidly contorted into a mixture of confusion and wide-eyed consternation; shallowly breathing under her shackles. Immediately the angel withdrew his hand remaining composed as he spoke softly.

“Don’t be afraid. I’m a friend…I’ve come to help you,” he told her gravelly. “Are you…Kate?”

The young woman winced; narrowing her gaze uncertainly at the handsome doe-eyed stranger. “What? …How do you know my name?”

Castiel glanced over his shoulder at the open cell door; making sure he wasn’t sensing an impending threat. Sooner or later the necromancers were going to notice their missing guard; he had to make haste if he was going to get this girl out of the building. At the same time he didn’t want to alarm her. Kate knew nothing about him and he probably wasn’t going to win her over just by carrying her off the premises.

Turning back to the girl Castiel admitted dourly. “Well actually I wasn’t aware of who you were. But from my understanding Kate was the name of a person Willet is currently holding captive; whom Seth and Richard Gecko have briefly referred to for past forty-eight hours that I’ve been in their company.” His docile eyes searched the cell conditions and glanced back at her hesitant exterior. “Confined within these walls; I could only assume that individual was you.”

A furrowed brow spread across Kate’s forehead; nibbling her lip. 

“You know the Geckos?” she waited briefly; mouth partially opened then added warily. “Are they okay?”

“I’ve the audacity of being vaguely acquainted with them through working with my friends the Winchesters. But I would hardly suggest there are any familial attachments between us. And yes…they’re fine.”

There was a sigh of relief.

“W-who are you?” Kate’s confused glare ogled the angel’s wardrobe. “You’re not a private detective…or homeless guy…are you?”

Oh this again. An impassive sigh released from Castiel’s throat. Of course Kate had no idea who or what he was nor did she have any reason to believe him. His trench-coat seemed to often draw out these typical reactions from people. To the casual observer it would’ve appeared that he didn’t dress like a man who earned money or kept a steady job; which made sense because he wasn’t human and didn’t require such predicaments. Angels didn’t normally care how their vessels dressed but Castiel was ironically fond of his long beige trench over the suit and tie look. The only issue that concerned him was whether or not it was the correct moment to reveal his identity weary that Kate wouldn’t be so perceptive.  
Finally the angel sedately replied. “I am Castiel...”

“Castiel? That’s original,” Kate’s expression was semi-disoriented yet the uneasiness in her voice disquieted; dangling her legs over the ledge of the square-shaped cemented bench. “How did you get in this place anyway; are you some kind of…superspy?”

“I am not of a double ‘O’ seven caliber if that is what you were insinuating,” Castiel abstained dismissively at the girl; blue eyes skimming the cell. “But…being an angel…I can be fairly resourceful infiltrating certain establishments such as these; long as they’re not protected with Enochian sigil.”

Kate’s eyes nearly popped out of her skull at the sudden mention of the word angel. Then it occurred to Castiel reminded of the cross she was wearing; this was most likely the last explanation she expected to receive from him. Taking Kate’s religion into account he sensed for her this probably equaled to meeting a celebrity or pop icon. 

“You’re an angel?” she could hardly believe it.

He nodded statuesquely.

“For real?”

“Yes.”

For a second Kate looked as though she was lost for words; licking her top lip before swallowing. Castiel could see it in her face how much she wanted to believe him. However the awestruck expression on the young woman’s face quickly faded into devastation when she brushed her hand against the cross necklace; sunk back into her defenses. 

“No! What the hell are you doing?” Kate snapped at Castiel icily; eyes shimmering with hostility. “Why are you doing this?!”  
Baffled the angel inclined his head; narrowing his eyes. “I don’t understand what it is you’re referring.”

“Do you think I’m an idiot? You’re not an angel…they don’t exist.” It was like acid promenading from her voice as tears spilt down her cheeks. Throwing up both hands and scrunching them into her hair. “You’re just more of his mind games! Or you’re part of hers!”

“I am real Kate.” Castiel stated frankly yet patient. “I am an angel of the lord.”  
  
“Stop it, you’re lying! You really expect me to believe Seth and Richie sent an angel down here to save me? How can you be so cruel?!” More tears kept coming and Castiel soon realized he’d caused the girl more agony than he intended. “If you were an angel you wouldn’t have allowed any of this shit to happen to me or my family in the first place! You would have protected us from evil! You wouldn’t have allowed that demon to take control of me!” Kate was now screaming in anguish. “AND WHERE WERE YOU WHEN MY MOM WAS DYING! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE; PLEASE!”

Her wet face drooped clutching her hair even tighter; Kate’s whole body shook keening. Castiel blinked owlishly gazing at her; mouth partially open yet he kept silent. This girl had been suffering for so long no wonder she was so emotionally distraught. Under the surface though he felt her anger wasn’t rooted at him. Empathetically Castiel took hold of Kate’s hands and gently pried them away from her head; small strands of hair still coiled around her dainty fingers. As he did this her chin lifted abruptly.

“I want to show you something,” the angel proclaimed impassively; releasing her palms, climbing to his feet. “So you will not doubt me…”

Kate took a moment to calm down, exhaling loudly wiping her face on her shoulder; a protest lingering on her tongue. However she abided Castiel’s words and sat quietly waiting. Sure enough the cell swallowed up in brilliant flashes of lightening. His entire body gave off a beautiful heavenly bright white glowing silhouette. Castiel’s soft lapses eyes had transformed into two shining sapphires which reminded Kate of the stars in space; the wall behind him cast a shadow of giant broken wings fiercely stretching to each end of the earth. She could almost pinpoint the details of each feather. The speechless young woman’s jaw dropped; palms fumbling over her mouth.

“Oh my God!” she gasped; shaking her head. “You’re… But-”

Castiel’s eyes returned to normal as the lightening descended. “As I’ve told you…I’m an angel. Although the form I take before you is merely a vessel…revealing my true visage would just be exceedingly detrimental to any human or demon for that matter.”

“You mean you don’t even really look like this?”

“No.”

“How is this possible?”

The angel looked at her quizzically.

“I assume based on your current interactions with the Geckos that your knowledge with aberrations such as culebras isn’t challenged.” Castiel interjected stonily. “And your vessel was once in fact possessed by a Xibalban ruler. If such things are a possibility…why couldn’t I be?”

Kate swallowed back her anxiety; absorbing Castiel’s information one bit at a time. Obviously she knew monsters existed; she’d made peace with it. But for some reason Kate found it excruciatingly difficult to rope angels into the same crazy world as culebras and Xibalban demons. Given her circumstances having her whole family ripped apart; being killed, possessed and nearly stripped of all morality and innocence, Kate had become somewhat of a basket case. Since Amaru, she’d been struggling to find her way back to a stable place. And her guilt only hurt that much more.

“I guess…my faith has been tested so many times now,” she replied lamentedly; shrugging. “I find it hard to believe in anything decent…when I’ve been exposed to so much horror in my life over the past year.” Castiel nodded; arms to his side while he listened to the melancholy textures of her frail voice. “I’ve seen good in certain people…and yet the bad…it always seems to override that part of them.”

Kate’s defeated face dropped into her lap and immediately Castiel sensed her sorrow stemmed from something…or someone else entirely. 

“I am sorry…for your pain,” he muttered stolidly; gaze doe-eyed. “It occurred to me just now that you’d entrusted faith into someone you held in highest regards…and that person let you down.”

Kate didn’t respond so Castiel persisted wispily.

“While I cannot fundamentally vouch for whoever that may be…I do know your friends Seth and Richard have been doing everything in their power to rescue you.”

But the young woman wasn’t convinced; evading her gaze shutting them tightly. “You’re wrong…” she faltered; fighting back the wet substance swimming in her eyes. “Richie doesn’t care about me… He never did…”

Castiel’s mild expression dimmed into sadness; approaching the girl and taking a seat next to her. He’d witnessed similar hopelessness in the past from Sam and Dean over the years since he’d known them. Even within himself during his brief stint as a human. And he had his doubts about God which was still fresh. While there was much about human emotion he couldn’t fully relate to; the angel had a better understanding of them presently compared to eight years ago. And in turn he’d adopted a more compassionate demeanor.

“In my minimum knowledge of your miscreant companions…I am most certain that statement couldn’t be more false.” He affirmed softly in his raspier baritone. “I’ve seen enough evidence in Richard’s soul to debate that logic.”

Kate shook her head.

“It’s true…he told me I meant nothing to him… Why would I believe he’d come here for me?”

“Because you are important to him; I felt it. But for some unknown reason Richard chose to be dishonest with you about his feelings rather than upfront; resulting in his own self-destructive torment.” Struck with a moment of clarity, the apprehensive young woman spun around to face Castiel’s despondent gaze. She didn’t know him yet was comforted by something in his voice which assured her of his honesty. “I can’t comprehend the history between you both…however through him I’ve sensed that what you share is a profound bond… If you trusted that bond once before…trust it now Kate.”

As Castiel became overwhelmed in the pain raiding off the porcelain girl sitting beside him; his docile blue eyes coincidentally trailed down to the healing bite mark on her right forearm. A vampire…or culebra had previously fed off this girl. Richie Gecko’s image instantly flooded the angel’s thoughts as he instantaneously grasped her arm.

“Did he do this to you?” Castiel’s eyes were ablaze. 

“It’s not what you think!” Kate barked yanking her arm back; glowering at the angel as if he’d invaded her privacy. “Richie didn’t hurt me like that…he would never…” Before getting too excited she steadied herself; counting in her mind exhaling then replied solemnly. “I willingly gave him my blood…I was helping him.”

Castiel could feel himself draining of erraticism retracting to his reserved composure. As long as that creature wasn’t harming this girl he could tolerate their complicated circumstances. Strange though that a culebra would share such a distinct connection with this human; it was almost touching.

“You must really care for him a great deal to share such a valid piece of yourself,” the angel articulated stalely. “I imagine there’s an illuminating explanation surrounding that scar.”

Kate averted her eyes from Castiel staring off into space; palm pressing against the bite mark. She could still feel the excruciating rush of those teeth puncturing her flesh; the energy leaving her body as he hungrily drained her soul. And yet inside, Kate didn’t wish to be rid of those memories. In a single moment the young woman was part of him as he was part of her. She’d never felt closer to anyone than she did that night in the cage with Richie. If only the pain in her heart would stop torturing her.

Taking a deep breath, Kate just faintly stared at the angel with sparkling eyes. Right then he knew, without words, just how strongly her feelings for the vampire extended…and how much those feelings ached.  
________________________________________

City Hall, Albuquerque; 11:45 pm

The Winchesters’ ’67 Chevy and Geckos 60s Mercury parked beside one another across the lot from the city building. Earlier they’d had a run in with some corpses using only their knives to dispatch them. Taking into account that the necromancers were probably intelligent enough to detect trespassers; the boys camped out behind some trees and bushes. Sam was situated on top of the impala hood sipping on his soft drink; busily clicking away at the keyboard of his laptop while Dean, Seth and Richie eating their burgers scoped out the parameters from the brush using the Winchesters’ binoculars. 

Meanwhile the chaos behind them had reached biblical proportions. Smashed buildings burned as the city traffic stalled; lit helicopters flew overhead shooting hostile corpses attacking civilians. At the City Hall parking lot although there weren’t many cars parked; the group of brothers had other headaches to worry about in the form of two black SVUs driving up on the curb one after the other near the entrance. Dean immediately recognized Gary Willet’s black hombre hat as he stepped out of the first van onto the sidewalk straightening his jacket.

“Well lookie it’s our ol’ pal Sherriff Woody,” Dean disclosed vigorously; adjusting the binocular visual as Willet holding Amaru’s necklace strolled past the walking corpses and into the building. “Guess we know who’s gotta a fetish for Tiffany's jewelry.”

“Great,” Seth grumbled. “Jebediah over there’s the death messiah; he’ll see us coming before we even set foot into that place. And we won’t get within five feet; not with all those airheaded jackasses poking about.” 

“How many of them are there anyway?” Richie queried at the bravado hunter crouched between him and his mortal sibling. 

“Zombies? I’m gonna estimate about over a dozen at least.” Dean divulged spryly mouth full; peeking over the goggles. Corpses shuffled aimlessly around the lot; often bumping into one another or banging into the handicapped parking signs. When the hunter looked back into the binoculars he’d noticed another notch in their espionage scheme. Five drone body guards dressed like punk rockers armed with assault rifles exited the SUV after Willet’s departure. Dean released a miffed sigh. “And they’ve brought along Sex Pistols rejects as drinking buddies; awesome!”

“More drones?” 

“Yep; and they’re packing heat too.”

All three men concurrently groaned rolling their eyes.

“Shit!” Seth griped; voice trailing under his breath. “How the fuck are we even supposed to get over there with all those shambling goons on our asses; plus a team of snake T-100s? It’s a God damn obstacle course.” 

“Don’t worry brother,” Richie deadpanned; reaching over Dean patting Seth on the shoulder. “We could always spray your dumb ass with that ‘vintage’ AXE shit you wore the other night and make ‘em chase you while we sneak inside.”

Seth’s dark eyes stared down the culebra nonchalantly. “Ha, ha you’re hilarious Richard; you almost put Andy Kaufman to shame.” Then the tattoo suited Gecko stirred the conversation back on course. “Why don’t we just do it like that job we pulled off in Phoenix; and go from the side of the building?”

“Because in Phoenix we didn’t have to worry about hordes of undead cannibals coming after us, Seth. And with you three being human well,” the vampire shrugged mordantly. “Let’s just say I gotta a better shot of getting in and out of there alive than you do.” 

“Bullshit,” the older Gecko brother disputed. “What about that score I pulled off in the snake Temple of Doom? Not too shabby for a mere mortal.”

“You mean the phony score we both pulled off?” Richie corrected apathetically; puckering his brows. “The one designed after the very same job that landed you behind bars for five years; until I busted you out.”

“Yah then Carlito and your snake princess double crossed us; and I had to risk my ass to save yours ya prick.”

“I lost count of the number of times I’ve stuck my neck out for you.”

Dean shook his head tossing aside the aluminum burger wrapper; digging inside his ear with his pinky which was buzzing from the constant bickering between the Geckos. They were worse than a married couple; worse than him and Sam whenever they fought about stupid stuff. This was ridiculous they were grown men arguing like kindergarteners. Before it got out of hand the bravado hunter immediately wedged himself in the middle.

“Yo Lavern & Shirley,” Dean motioned a severed head at the Geckos who looked astounded. “Shut your cake holes would ya! Some of us adults are actually trying to not get caught out here; unless you’re begging to be dinner for one of these decayed ass-monkeys.”

Seth glanced at the bravado hunter; deriding rancorously. “Okay then John Mclean; how the fuck do we get passed those things?” 

“We’re’ not all going in there,” Dean established sternly peeking away from the goggles; gawking at the flabbergasted Seth and Richie. “Sam and I got this. You girls are staying back to keep the home fires burning and if we need you…” The bravado smugly slapped the older Gecko brother’s shoulder. “We’ll give you a call.”

That did it. Richie resentfully scrutinized Dean while Seth gave him an agitated stink eye expression. 

“Like hell we are!” the vampire snapped heatedly; climbing to his feet and chasing the hunter back to the cars. “Seth and I have been putting down scores like this for years; mastered heist execution to exit strategy. This is our area of expertise. How long have you Scoobies been doing this espionage shit; like maybe a quarter of a day?” 

Dean’s brow twitched irritably; stopping in his tracks and spinning around to Richie. This kid was really starting to get on his nerves. 

“Listen I don’t give a damn if you’re the friggin McGyver of the criminal latter. Out here I call the shots and you two are staying behind.”

The older Gecko brother was even more dismissive.

“Fat chance, I take orders from nobody but me Bravado.” Seth snorted crossing his arms; furrowing his brow. “And where the hell would you and the Green Giant be if Richie and I hadn’t stuck around to cover your self-righteous asses? We’ve more than pulled our own weight in this thing so why don’t you start showing us some respect gramps.”

Dean just scowled; resentful of Seth’s demeaning remarks. “Sorry I’m not into coddling smartass douchebags who lie, cheat, steal, kidnap and kill to get ahead in life.”

“Well then I guess you’d fit right into the ‘hypocrite’ category,” Richie snarled at the bravado hunter derisively; eyes like freezing glaciers. “Because those labels got your name written all over them.”

“Yah your hands ain’t clean remember.” the older Gecko brother added saucily. “I’ve seen enough scars and fake IDs to know when a person’s dirty.”

Dean blinked at the brothers perplexingly like he’d heard something completely stupid in that assessment; “What are you babbling about?”

A sly grin tugged at the vampire’s lips as he circled the daunted hunter; preparing to add more salt on the wound.

“Oh common, all those guns, fancy weapons and ammo you’re carrying around; that shit didn’t come out of thin air. Not to mention those cheap motels you’ve been squatting in along with food and gas. And I’m pretty sure your line of work doesn’t really pay much given your Deadliest Catch fashion sense.” Richie tugged at Dean’s cargo jacket collar; then folded his arms cheekily. He was really enjoying this. “I’ve done the math and unless you two have been working the Kahuna grill five days a week in between monster hunts for over the last decade or so, there’s no way in hell you could afford the carefree lifestyle.”

Dean swallowed hard; dropping his intense gaze as the sanctimonious confidence he’d carried deflated from his face. Richie saw it immediately; that guilt in his eyes. It only provoked the vampire’s arrogance over the pertinent fact that the Winchesters were thieves themselves. It was true they were ripping off banks in order to stay afloat while they hunted. But for years Sam and Dean kept telling themselves that money was going towards the greater good; keeping civilians safe and evil down a peg. He didn’t need a couple of punk kids in snappy suits lecturing him about right and wrong when they were the epitomy of bad seeds.

Richie leaned in close; smirking derisively at Dean. “You’re living off a stolen stash.”

“What’s that?” Seth looked at the culebra; unable to believe what he’d just heard. 

Richie just kept his steel gaze on Dean; soaking in all the tension. “Our heroes Rocky and Bullwinkle here have been syphoning banks to support their nightly extra-curricular activities.” The older Gecko brother nodded wryly as if he were mimicking a taunting middle schooler. Dean’s eyes were ablaze listening to this crap. “I guess you Winchesters aren’t so far off the criminal spectrum after all.”

The bravado hunter glowered at the Geckos. Sam perked his head up from the laptop screen; not liking where this argument was heading. Dean could be a hothead and a little arrogant but obviously he wasn’t the only one; which tended to get him in trouble. And picking a fight with a supernaturally powerful being was bound to be disastrous. 

“Hey we use that money to kill evil sons of bitches!” Dean berated curling his lip; eyes fiery. “It’s not like we’re not vacationing in Tahiti! Don’t you dare try to rope us in with you dicks. We’re nothing like you.”

“No you’re just a couple of modern day Robin Hoods.” Seth snarked at the hunter; pretending to shoot a bow and arrow. “Only you rob the middle class tax payers instead and you don’t give to the poor; you just reap the benefits. Don’t get me wrong that’s probably what I would’ve done; in fact Richie and I made our living ripping off banks.”

“And look how that turned out.” Dean retorted cockily. 

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” Richie scoffed disparagingly.

The bravado hunter sized up the culebra; smirking fiendishly. Sure this kid might’ve had the height and a few pounds on him but Richie didn’t intimidate Dean in the slightest. The Winchesters had seen guys like the Gecko brothers during their brief stint in jail and fought worse monsters. Dean saw right through the vampire; effortlessly picked up on all his defense mechanisms. He was nothing more than an insecure little boy with severe daddy issues. And although the hunter had earlier acknowledged the level of Richie’s damaged psyche, Dean just couldn’t resist the urge jab the knife.

“You yack on about what a poser I am; why don’t you take a look in the friggin mirror Mr. Dress-Up? You’re not fooling anyone.” Dean censured condescendingly; pointing between the culebra’s eyes. Richie could feel himself seething inside. “With that bloodsucker mojo I’m pretty sure you’re not visually impaired these days; so what’s with the Clark Kent duds?” The vampire’s cheeks throbbed glowering as he adjusted his glasses. “Oh wait…are you trying to be human? Is that what you’re doing?” Dean let out a spontaneous guffaw which only sufficed to antagonize Richie further beyond a breaking point. “Kid it ain’t gonna matter how many times you wear those friggin things; you’re still a freak.”

Just as Seth and Sam predicted Richie viciously lunged for Dean; clawing at the air but getting no contact. Fortunately the hunter was quick enough to dodge the vampire’s attacks; and his tattooed brother caught him from behind. Sam urgently jumped off the hood of the car, rushing towards the three men; stretching his arms out between Dean and Richie. 

“Stop it you two!” he shouted at his brother and the vampire; ready like they were going to kill one another. “Dean, that’s enough!”

“Just give me a reason to rip off that fucking mouth of yours!” Richie hissed as his eyes morphed into ferocious reptilian slits; struggling under Seth’s grip. “Just say the word asshole!”

Dean’s dagger-like eyes shot menacingly; balling his fists. “I’ll be happy to gank your cobra ass any day Bitch!” 

Aggravated, Seth pulled his preternatural sibling away from the Winchesters; grilling at Richie as he held his massive flailing body at bay. “Richard, cut it out! God you’re acting like a fucking child!”

The vampire gnashed his teeth yanking off Seth’s arms; snarling at him appallingly. “You’re taking his side now?” he gesticulated.

“I’m on no one’s side.” The older Gecko stated matter of fact; motioning critically with his hands. “Far as I’m concerned I’m Team Switzerland. So shut the fuck up.” Richie was stewing; watching his brother then direct his bitterness towards Dean. “And you; where the Hell do you get off Bravado? You’re the one barking orders at everybody yet every time I turn around there you are going at it with my brother like two mad pit-bulls in a dogfight. Either you get that shit sorted out or we’re walking and you can save the world on your own dime.”

The taller Winchester brother frowned over Seth’s foreboding declaration; ironically though he found himself siding with the tattooed Gecko. Now was not the right moment to be at odds with the apocalypse unleashing in every direction. And truthfully Sam didn’t want Dean’s antipathy with Richie to resort in the Geckos bailing out on them. They either needed to bury their issues or things were gonna dangerously escalate.

“He’s right Dean,” Sam acceded heavily; scrutinizing with his arms crossed while switching from one foot to the other. “We don’t have time for this; not when mom and Cass’s lives are on the line. The reason we came here was for them and that amulet.” His brow furrowed glancing at Richie; tightening his jaw. “If you two wanna go Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robots; fine do that crap somewhere else. But look around you; it’s Hell out here and it’s not gonna end unless we stop it. But we can’t do that if we’re going at one another every second.” 

Dean and Richie synchronously fired each other an ominous expression sighing; then stubbornly averted their gazes. At that point the vampire’s eyes had returned to normal as the indignation left his system giving way for his usual stolid poise and tone. The hunter however was less willing to forgive; struggling to find that sense of compromise. All he thought of doing was putting down that monster in front of him; to hell with anything else.

“Whatever.” Dean snarled pushing back from Sam; infuriated eyes fixated on the vampire. “Let’s just get this over with so we don’t ever have anything to do with these dickbags again.”

“Fine by me!” Richie shot back petulantly; sauntering towards the cars after Seth and the Winchesters. “Staring at your shitty lumberjack wardrobe every day is enough to turn my stomach.”

Making their way back to Sam’s laptop sitting on the impala hood; the taller Winchester plucked it up into his hands leaning against the vehicle. Dean, Seth and Richie piled around him expectantly. Thanks to some special software Charlie Bradbury had left behind before her death, Sam was able to cut a few corners hacking into City Hall’s mainframe system. And he’d done it just in time before Dean and Richie’s attempted death match.

“We’re in.” Sam announced; showing off the virtual map on the computer screen to the other three men. “I got City Hall’s interior outline; access to the security cameras and codes, the works. So I’ll be your eyes and ears around the building once you’re inside.” He paused midsentence; typing into a file. “And thanks to Charlie’s software I also managed to bypassed the security system.” 

“Sammy you’re a genius.” Dean boasted; playfully slapping his brother’s shoulder. “Alright let’s boogie.”

Sam balked; cow-eyeing Dean and unscrewed his jaw. 

“I can’t go. Dean someone’s gotta stay behind and monitor things from out here.”

“So let Scaly handle that.” The hunter pointed at the inexpressive culebra. “I’m sure he’s a wizard at computers.”

A loud groan interrupted them.

“Christ, I’ll go,” Seth reluctantly volunteered; lifting up his palm with lack of enthusiasm. “It’s not like I have anything better to do.”

But Richie wasn’t having any of it; thoughts flooding back to Cross’s cryptic words about taking Seth’s core whatever that meant. And he was still in the dark about their destiny as well as their roles in the apocalypse. If Willet was inside waiting for an opportunity to get Richie’s brother alone then he couldn’t allow him to go anywhere near that building. His number #1 priority in all this besides saving the Fullers was protecting Seth.

At the same time Richie’s malnourishment was taking affect. He’d been dizzy from hunger for the past several days; hiding it like an idiot and it almost got him killed during that fight with Cross in the cemetery. He had to subtly walk taller in order to relieve suspicion. Every time Richie felt like fainting or stumbled in his steps, the vampire shrugged it off. In his mind he still felt invincible. But was he any good to the Winchesters or Seth with only bare minimum of strength? Dilemmas like this really ended up being a pain in the butt for the vampire. 

“No, I’ll go with Flash Gordon on this.” Richie let out a forlorn sulk which surprised the other three; peering at a muddled Seth. “It’s better if you stay out here and keep an eye on Mr. Robot; make sure he doesn’t get lost in his hair walking us through the hive.”

Sam begrudged the vampire’s remark, brushing back his long locks while Seth stood there with boggled eyes. Dean promptly came to the conclusion that the older Gecko brother wasn’t fond of being told what to do by his younger sibling; hence his disinclination of taking orders from the Winchesters.

“My ass!” Seth barked; squaring his shoulders. “Richard you just went three rounds with the Undertaker on low pints; you can barely focus much less throw a fist. Not to mention ten seconds ago you were etching to take out Bravado here.” The vampire stared off dishearteningly into his mortal sibling’s dark eyes. Should’ve figured Seth had been keeping close tabs knowing how he’d been neglecting his health. “You’re a liability so you’re benched end of discussion.”

“What the hell are you talking about?!” Richie’s face soured; mimicking an explosion with his hand. “Scott turned you into a human punching bag; you’re lucky to be alive. And if he’s in there I gotta a better chance at stopping him more than you do.” Quickly he turned his attention to Dean in hopes of convincing him. “I’m stronger than all three of you guys put together and I’m a strategist; with all those necromancers and drones you’re gonna need me in there.”

Dean narrowed his eyes cynically; shoving his hands in his pockets. Even if Richie was making sense the idea of working alone with an arrogant kid he didn’t particularly care for was unsettling. Minutes ago they wanted to tear each other apart and now Richie was insisting to team up? There had to be a catch. Willet’s confirmation of the Geckos role in the apocalypse sprung to mind; something he’d obviously wasn’t being upfront about with his brother.

“No offense fang boy, but you don’t exactly strike me as the ‘team player’ type.” Dean interjected; earning him a discreet pouting expression from the culebra. Just when it seemed as though the hunter made his mind up he added. “However, if we can both agree to put our crap away…then maybe we got a shot at ending this thing before its Hell’s Bells.” 

But Sam and Seth weren’t easily swayed.

“Are you sure about this Dean?” the taller hunter disapproved; pressing his palm against his brother’s chest and gesticulating. “I mean you two were literally just about to throw down and now you wanna Buddy Cop with each other?”

“Sam it’s not like that. I just wanna get this job done man.”

“Yah I’m with BFG on this.” The older Gecko brother tossed in; tapping Sam’s arm supportively. “That plan’s not bulletproof enough; and I used to do this heist shit for a living. I’m co-captain on this voyage with Bravado.”

The vampire’s eyes dissected his mortal sibling.

“But you wouldn’t have even gotten half those scores if it weren’t for me.” Richie scolded. “You act as if you did all that shit solo. Didn’t I crack the safes? Or come up with the exit strategies?” Seth crossed his arms rolling his eyes. “Sorry brother but your ass is staying behind this time.”

“Richie if I have to shoot you or tie you to that damn car I’ll do it; because you’re not going.”

“You can’t stop me.”

“Wanna wager on that?”

Dean swiftly intervened; prying the Geckos apart. “Aright, aright enough of the friggin bitching; my heads gonna explode!” the hunter pinched his forehead; squinting. “If you’re gonna argue about this crap at least do it like men.”

Seth grimaced at the bravado hunter. “The Hell are you getting at?”

“Rock, paper, scissors,” Sam’s face flustered; rubbing his nose then putting his hands on his hips. “Dean and I do it all the time whenever we can’t settle on something. It’s quick and fair.”

“And stupid.” Richie derided. “We’re not fucking twelve.”

Seth suddenly stretched out his arm with a closed sideways fist; earning him a deadpanned look from Richie. Damn it. He figured these Winchesters were gonna be a bad influence on them. Sighing, the vampire returned the gesture; holding out his own fist. They rapidly shook them three times in front of Sam and Dean’s amused expressions, presenting their chosen figures. Richie was more than cheeky over the results.

“Shit!” Seth croaked defeated; drawing ‘paper’.

“You snooze you lose brother. Scissors cuts through paper!” the stolid vampire gloated; pretending to snip through Seth’s hand. “Guess that means I’m going after all.”

“Okay you can cut the bullshit Richard, what’s this really about huh?” Seth prodded skeptically; scanning his preternatural sibling’s eyes. “Why are you so persistent to play Die Hard all of a sudden? 

Richie raised a brow. “I just told you, as a culebra I’m stronger backup.”

“Yah I’m not buying it. You’ve been acting funky since the warehouse; weirder than usual. I want the truth and I want it now.”

Oh crap! This was not how Richie wanted to have this conversation; especially not in front of Sam and Dean. Being put on the spot like this sucked. Seth’s thoroughness certainly wasn’t to be underestimated; he’d been getting suspicious the whole time they were venturing around with the Winchesters. There was no pulling the wool over his eyes. So the only thing Richie could think of doing was deflect the question with a different yet honest response; even though it was also technically another lie. Before the vampire got too pent up he took a deep breath exhaling; giving his voice a somber texture.

“You want the truth? It’s Kate,” he admitted inscrutably. “If she’s in there, you and I both know I’m the best chance at getting her out Seth.”

“Kate. That’s your reason for all this?”

“Yes.” 

And it was true; Richie wanted to save her more than anything. Tired of arguing, Seth threw in the towel. Concerned as he was about his brother’s safety Richie was beyond reasoning with. 

“Don’t do anything heroic.” he grizzled; warning with his index finger. “Or stupid.”

“Trust me brother.” Richie twisted his lips darkly; taking out his Taurus. 

The bravado hunter impatiently checked his watch; clearing his throat.

“Right, well if we’re going lets bounce.” Dean urged; retrieving his colt from under his cargo jacket. “These asshats aren’t gonna wait around for dawn to break.”

Sam’s hand clamped on his brother’s shoulder and twisted him around. The look on his face was sheer anguish.

“Be careful.”

Dean simply threw his taller sibling a cocky wink. “When am I not?”

Before the two departed from their brothers to the parking lot, Sam gave Dean and Richie special high-tech communication earphones; compliments of eccentric Frank Devereaux during the Winchesters’ wanted fugitive days thanks to the Leviathan. Equipped with their gear, the Winchester brothers gave each other a shoulder pat then Dean took off through the bush with Richie. Seth proceeded to follow Sam and the laptop inside the impala where the two sat awkwardly until the taller hunter broke the ice.

“You think they’ll be okay?” 

Seth blew out his cheeks. “Hell if I know. It depends.”

“On what?” Sam perked up; brows knitting together.

“On how long they can go without killing each other.”  
________________________________________

Stepping onto the dark pavement, Dean and Richie sauntered across the lot towards an abandoned white convertible; using the shadows for cover. Only a few tall street lights shone above creating circular patches on the road. The hot wind blew assorted autumn leaves which crunched into ashes under their shoes. From every angle the hunter and the vampire took notice of corpses lumbering like depressive drunks; groaning clumsily as they bumped into things. It was a good thing both of them were armed although Dean had felt using their knives would probably work best.

Making their selves scarce behind the vehicle before one of the zombies or drones guards noticed them; Dean exchanged the colt for his demon knife glancing back at Richie.

“Bullets are just gonna lead these dead bastards right to us,” he cognized the culebra crouched next to him; peeking on the side of the convertible for an opening. “And ah, since they gotta thing for long-ping; unlike you I’m pretty much on tonight’s menu.” Richie’s forehead simply creased as Dean prattled on. “We need to go ninja stealth first if we're gonna get in that building. Knives only.”

The vampire shrugged with a lopsided grin; proceeding to grab his Xibalban blade after securing away his gun. 

“Well then it’s a good thing I brought this along.” And he flashed the knife then irrationally turned from the hunter; attempting to split in the opposite direction.

Dean’s hand instantly latched onto Richie’s shoulder stopping him dead in his tracks. “Whoa, where do you think you’re going Lugosi junior?” He jutted out his stubble chin over his shoulder to the right. “We’re going in through the front and it’s this way.”

“Have you seen the entrance? They’ve got drones blocking the way with sigs and you’re not exactly durable.” Richie demurred sassily at Dean; who’d responded with a narrow look slightly tilting his head. “Besides I don’t really feel like taking any bullets for you in case they’re stakes. Going around the back is our best bet.”

“It’s stupid is what it is.”

“No, taking on armed guards, at the risk of getting shot at, is stupid. I’m an expert on this shit; trying for the back entrance is less of a risk.”

“Not if there’s more stenches that way.” Dean retorted; removing his hand from the vampire. He drew a deep breath then exhaled. “Look I get it; you ain’t exactly on my Christmas list either. But if you’re gonna tag along you’re either gonna work with me or slither your ass on back to the cars.”

The vampire scowled. “Who said anything about me tagging along with you? I’m the one with the plan Stan.”

“Yah but you’re also a kid and an amateur when it comes to hunting. You could be the smartest guy on planet; Hell even the Nutty Professor and your arrogance will still get us both killed.” The hunter vitally pointed out resulting in Richie’s complacent smirk changing into a pouty frown. “Trust me I’ve lived decades fighting things you can’t even imagine; died several times in between. Just because you got a friggin GPA, can probably whip Jet Li’s ass in a fight and suddenly go to Blood-aholics Anonymous doesn’t mean you understand what’s out there.”

Richie’s blood boiled. This guy had absolutely no idea what he’d been through; his transformation into a culebra or horrific experiences in Xibalba. Absolutely not a clue. Dean Winchester was even bossier than Seth and Seth was the king of controlling motor-mouths.

“Fuck you Abercrombie; you don’t know a damn thing about me or the shit I’ve seen!” Richie snapped under his breath; glaring at Dean defensively. “Just because Seth and I haven’t lived through the Dark Ages like you and hair-for-days doesn’t mean we’re idiots.”

Dean dismissively held a hand up.

“Okay numero uno; stop with the friggin mouth-garbage. Seriously I’m two seconds away from getting a bar of soap here. And finally, you haven’t done this as long as Sam and I have.”

Richie shrugged passively. “I’m gonna outlive you in a few years so…”

“If someone shoves a stake through your chest; the only thing you’ll be outliving is the latest internet meme.” Dean gibed; glancing at the five drones standing vacantly at the doors. The vampire’s expression turned unilateral; neutral eyes locked onto the hunter who rotated back to him. “You think I don’t get you or what you’re about but I do. So you gotta bury that crap and work with me or we’ll both be spitting out bullets.” 

“Fine,” Richie let out a displeased huff; then his lips formed into a forced smile. “Ninja style it is.” 

Dean nodded satisfied when he noticed a path through some of the scattered zombies shambling. “No time to margin for error. Let’s do this.”

Ambling away from the car Dean and Richie, with their sharp melee weapons, very discreetly each knifed a corpse in the skull; shuffling behind another car then repeated the process. And again and again; moving from one car to the next and taking out corpses in their way. Looking over his shoulder Richie sighed when the drones hadn’t moved from their posts. Whew! They were almost clear to sneak through the front entrance and luckily most of the corpses were shuffling towards the noises in the distance of the city; it was the perfect distraction for the boys.

“Sam?” Dean pressed the button on his ear device. “I think most of the zombies are leaving the playground. We’re almost at the doors.”

“Yah I can see that on the outdoor security feed.” Sam complied in his ear. “The indistinct sounds must be drawing them away. You should be able to get through the entrance without being spotted.”

“Ye-ah,” Richie groaned derisively; gimlet-eyeing the five drones with AK 47s. “Except for the death squad ready to blast our damn heads off any minute; it should be a breeze.”

Dean rolled his eyes shaking his head; pressing a finger to his ear. “Got any ideas on how to deal with The Terminators?”

“Sit tight; let me see what I can do.” The radio frequency went quiet and suddenly the drive-in gate at the far end of the lot began malfunctioning. Flashing lights, the blaring ringing noises; the caution arm moving crazily. Not long after, the other three gates malfunctioned. Dean grinned cleverly to himself watching the drones instantly spreading out to assess the situations. 

“Think that’ll keep them preoccupied?”

“Did I mention before that you’re a genius?” Dean effused; peeking around the tail end of the station wagon he and Richie were hiding behind. Scanning for other stragglers, he saw the clear path to the front doors of City Hall. “Alright we’re gonna make our move; over and out.” 

“Copy that.” Sam ticketed. “I’ll walk you through the building levels once you and Richie are inside.”

Identically the hunter and the culebra moved towards the black vans half-crouched; keeping a safe distance from zombie detection. Luckily for Dean and Richie most of these creatures were deserting the area otherwise it would’ve been a hell of time getting back to the vehicles with extra cargo. Positioned alongside the first SUV; the alert unlikely armed duo circled around cautiously observing their surroundings. So far so good yet far from out of the woods. Just about at the entrance, Dean glanced at Richie silently signaling him to switch out his knife for the gun which he’d adhered to. Then the hunter grasped the handle of the glass doors and they swept through the threshold commando style. Dean led the way.

Eerily not a soul in sight; no one living anyway as lifeless bodies sprawled out about the space. Judging by their suits these people had worked in this building before something brutally slaughtered them. The interior of the City Hall lobby was pretty fancy complimenting its honeycomb exterior; top to bottom beige from the walls to the marble floors which were now stained in red. A white ceiling with long parallel black strips shaped like helicopter propellers and an enormous light bulb cradled in a large spiral centered in the middle looked like a miniature sun trapped in a whirlpool; held up by four tall cement cinders situated opposite sides of the front desk which reminded Dean of an art museum or temple. To their left the boys noticed a neatly displayed row of six life-sized office plants leaning against the wall undisturbed. 

From what they could see everyone on this floor was deceased as an unwarranted rancid smell perfumed the air. Most likely these people had been dead for hours. Richie using his jaguar demon senses couldn’t pick-up one active heartbeat in the bunch apart from Dean. Nothing alive and it ironically ailed him. Maneuvering forward, carefully stepping over corpses, towards a dead blond female secretary slumped over the counter dripping blood from her mouth onto the floor; the hunter’s face went pallid tightening his jaw pressing his earpiece.

“Watchtower…we’re inside.” Dean informed his brother grimly; lowering his eyes at the lifeless woman. “And ah, let’s just say everyone here’s seen better days.”

“Casualties?” Sam buzzed in the earpiece.

“Nearest we can see, at least twenty bodies or so.”

“Twenty-five!” Richie interrupted. 

Dean scrutinized the vampire but focused on his brother. “And all of em’ bit the dust hours ago.”

The line went silent followed by soft sigh then the voice on the other end responded. “You couldn’t have helped them Dean.”

“I know…but it still sucks,” he rubbed at his forehead. “No sign of Hopalong Cassidy either and I’m itching to kill something.”

“The security feeds show Willet’s heading for a conference room on the fifth floor. You and Richie are safer taking the stairs on the east wing; far as I can tell there aren’t any drones guarding that way.”

“Roger that birddog.” Richie crackled; unlocking the safety of his Taurus PT99 with his thumb. Then he and Dean, extending their guns in front of them, boldly drifted past the space metal elevator doors toward a staircase entry. Over his shoulder the younger Gecko brother flashed the hunter a sardonic sneer stepping aside. “After you fearless leader.”

“Oh so now you wanna follow me.”

“Hey if it means I don’t get shot at first it’s a win, win deal.”

“Right I get it, take one for the team huh?”

The vampire shrugged nonchalantly; pestering the bravado hunter. “Worst case scenario we could always tell em’ you got out of the retirement home; they might take pity on you.”  
Dean groaned irritably moving ahead of Richie on the concrete stairwell. 

“I’m not that friggin old smartass.”

“Really? Cause I could’ve sworn I spotted a few grey hairs on those sideburns.”

“Whatever bitch.”

Dean ignored Richie the rest of the way up the stairs briefly pausing at each landing to make sure no one was around. Once they reached the fifth floor it was full steam ahead towards the conference room at Sam’s instruction. The blond wooden wall hallways were endless; pot lights above going in a straight line pointed the way through the corporate maze. Sam was their saving grace when it came to navigation, seamlessly directing them past shut-in offices, around turns and corners. Each time drone guards did a routine sweep of the halls the duo made themselves insufficient; hiding in empty offices or ducking behind water coolers. 

Eventually the closer Dean and Richie got to their destination the louder an unintelligible chatter coming from a short distance became. There was no mistaking that crusty dirt-road southern accent; it was Willet on his cellphone. Dean and Richie crouched behind a corner inches from the conference room; eavesdropping in on the one-sided conversation. Pressing his ear device; the hunter promptly whispered to his sibling.

“Sam, you guys getting this?”

“In high-def.” the younger Winchester replied.

“Yes the accession was an overall success…minus a couple hiccups. So no trouble at all movin’ Miss Goldilocks to that there Place of Dead Roads?” His back was turned from the doorway as his old boots paced the grey carpet; in his left hand he fidgeted with the amulet. “Uh huh. Excellent. Now you best remember what I told you Cross; she stays alive until the ritual. There ain’t gonna be no torturing that purdy darlin’. Understand not one hair on her head is to be harmed.”

Bells went off immediately as Dean realized the old hombre was discreetly talking about Mary; causing him to grit his teeth. “Mom.” 

Before the hunter’s mindset got reckless, Richie’s palm clutched Dean’s jacket tugging back which startled him. “You’re not gonna do us or Mommy any favors by going Tallahassee on that geezer. Let’s see what he’s up to first before we even think about charging in.”

“Dude, I’m not a friggin idiot okay,” Dean scolded the vampire; brows dipping crossly. “I wanna find out what this western douchebag is up to just as much as you do.”  
Richie fired a skeptic expression of sure-you-do look on his face yet he didn’t precede an argument. Okay. Now that they were on the same page of things, the vampire released Dean while they continued to listen in. 

“I’ll be headin’ out with our precious catalyst soon enough,” Willet hissed pleasingly; holding up the shiny bobble by the chain. “Yes that lil’ angel is indeed a sweet specimen; our ticket to rectify ma Hell’s paradise. I will. Gotta take care of a… few loose ends first.” 

Who was he talking about? The mystery was internally eating away at Richie and Dean. And it begged the question; if Mary Winchester wasn’t being held captive in the building who else was Willet referring to? Just like that a light bulb went off in the vampire’s mind much like a certain selfie he’d been carrying around on his cell; he had a pretty good idea of who it was and his heart sank.

But if it wasn’t the sickening feeling of Kate Fuller’s life being in danger it was the severe dizziness from malnourishment that tortured Richie. He hadn’t fed off anyone since Maximillian Cross and he could feel his energy slipping rapidly; his culebra strength diminishing. Ever since Xibalba, Richie had been a mess. He couldn’t bring himself to kill or feed on dark souls anymore; and the only blood source he accepted came from frequent donors Seth and Kate. It was becoming so insufferable, Richie wobbled against Dean; putting a palm to his head grunting.

“Hey Rip Van Winkle!” The bravado hunter was rubbernecking the vampire behind him suspiciously. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

Richie jerked his head away, shaking off the whirling sensation. “It’s nothing I’m fine.”

“Well you don’t look fine. You look pale.” Ah he stepped into another vampire pun; go figure. “Paler than normal. Need some aspirin, iodine to take the edge off or something? Because I’m gonna need you focused here.” 

“No I told you I’m fine dipshit, would you drop it already?”

Dean didn’t like this. Great timing for a vampire to start getting weird and defensive about his health. And they were in the middle of a suicide mission to steal a rare item as well as rescue Castiel and probably some of the Geckos’ captive people. This was not the place to pass out. Needlessly the hunter warily abided Richie’s wishes and circled his attention back to Willet’s phone call. 

“I intend to. Ain’t no worry about them Men of Letters boys. Sure as the rawhide of ma hat there will be a reckonin'.” Richie’s breathing intensified as he watched the old hombre place the amulet into an encrypted wooden box; closing the lid. “They will meet their maker one way or another. And you have ma blessin’ to do as you please with them just…make it painful.” Well that doesn’t sound good, Dean theorized in his head. Willet stalled on the floor, putting a hand to his hip. “Yes, phase three is already set in motion. I’ll be lettin’ ya know when… The Circle will once again thrive.” Quickly he cut the line; jamming the cell into his pocket.

Conveniently a tall muscled and mustache drone in leather and tats wearing a black bandana on his head appeared behind Willet; waiting task instructions. The blank expression on his face was starting to wig out Dean but he retrained himself. Witnessing the old hombre acknowledge his minion; handing him the box with the amulet inside. Could this be an opportunity to steal it away from the necromancers? Richie was less convinced that Willet was the type to just let the heart of Xibalba out of his sight when it was essential to his plans.

“I want you to take this here precious trinket and vamoose it out of the buildin’ to the vans.” The old hombre advised his absent minded drone. “And you will not under any circumstances allow it out of your sight; is that understood?”

“Yes.” The hellion answered robotically.

“Good, now giddy up son.”

Wasting not another minute the drone with the box took off from the conference room; shuffling indiscriminately down the hall. Moments later Willet was greeted by four other drone bodyguards who escorted him to the elevators. This was their shot. Climbing to their feet Dean and Richie’s eyes darted after their disappearing target.

“Big Brother, we’re gonna tail the WWE douche,” Dean informed Sam into the ear piece; eyeballing the wrestler looking drone. “Looks like ol’ Skippy left him the keys to the kingdom so I’m gonna need you to keep tabs on this guy for us.”

“Hold on,” Sam stopped his older sibling. “I just checked out the security footage to find something on Cass and it looks like he was spotted in the basement level; which is where Willet is heading now. Far be it for me to say that nothing about this feels right.”

The bravado hunter rolled his eyes. “When does it ever?”

“Seriously Dean it’s too risky to get that necklace. You guys are better off grabbing Cass and hitting the road.”

“Yah I’m with Sasquatch on this one,” Richie chimed in; scoping out each end of the lit hallways. “This whole thing smells fishy. Why would Willet’s necromancer club hold up in an office building after ascending the Apocalypse? It doesn’t make sense. And no way would he just let Amaru’s amulet randomly traipse out of range with Sid Vicious in a wooden box. He’s ancient not a moron.”

Dean hated to admit it but the snappy suited vampire had a point. Ordinarily he would’ve gone with the instinct of ambushing the bad guy to get the artifact but now he had other things to consider. Lives to think about. And really why would a necromancer easily part with the very thing doubling his powers? 

“Alright then hotshot,” cynically demanded the hunter; deadpanning Richie. “Let’s hear your bright ideas of getting that amulet?”

Devoid of emotion the vampire chagrined at Dean.

“You’re gonna grab Captain Feathers and get Kate out of the building. I’ve got the American Reject. If something goes sour at least I’ll know one of us would have made it out of this shit hole.”  
“Are you crazy? That plan friggin sucks,” Dean gimleted Richie. “How do you know she’s even here or if she’s alive?”

“It’s a gut feeling but I know Kate’s here. I know it.”

“Fine, we’ll both go get her.”

“No, one of us needs to get that amulet and I’ve already volunteered. Your job is to save Kate and get your ass back to our brothers.”

Dean was wearing a wry expression. “I’m not letting you out of my sight. Look at you; you’re barely holding it together.”

“What?!” Richie barked. “I’m stronger than you are and I’m a grown man so stop treating me like a god damn sick child.”

“If I’m going to get Cass and your girlfriend there ain’t no way in Hell I’m leaving you alone up here with Alfonso.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“I don’t give a crap. You’re still coming with me.”

“Do you really wanna ar- Suddenly the vampire’s words slurred abruptly mid-sentence; his blue eyes nearly rolled back in his head as his legs gave out; collapsing against the wall. Dean immediately fell to Richie’s side, kneading both shoulders with his hands; fiercely shaking him.

“Kid? Hey, hey come on damn it!” Dean exclaimed; teeth grinding. “Snap out of it kid!”

But Richie was so disoriented he could barely get out a syllable; let alone feel the hunter smacking his face repeatedly. His whole body was screaming; agonizing for blood. Everything hurt; every fiber, every hair follicle ached. He could feel his stomach constricting his insides; lips dehydrated and chap like desert sand. After fighting it for so long the thirst finally had him; and now the scenery was going dark.

“Dean? Dean what’s going on?” Sam buzzed frantically in the hunter’s eardrum. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. It’s Richie, he’s passed out.”  
________________________________________

“So your friends…hunt monsters?” Castiel nodded sedately at the perplexed Kate hugging her knees. He could tell her world just got a whole lot larger with what she knew of the supernatural. “And you help them?”

“I assist them occasionally when I can.”

“And you’re all…working with Richie and Seth?” the girl raised an eyebrow. “That’s gotta be an interesting setup.”

Castiel gave a half shrug.

“Endeavoring to work with the Geckos would be a more accurate interpretation but yes.” The angel responded assertively.

Kate chortled mirthlessly to herself. “They’re lucky. I wish I had a guardian angel looking out for me like that.”

Castiel lifted his stolid gaze; taking in her somber exterior. “I’m sure you already do Kate. Maybe you just can’t see them…but they’re there.”

“How would you know?”

“You’re still alive aren’t you?” the angel vitally reminded the girl in his raspy voice. “Someone was obviously watching over you otherwise you wouldn’t have survived those ordeals with Amaru or found strength to withstand and forgive the Geckos after they held you hostage.”

“You think I’m crazy for sticking around them, don’t you?”

Castiel blinked solemnly. “That would not be my first choice of words. But I…think I understand why you refused to abandon them.” Kate went silent; staring at him with curiously. “You believe in their potential.” 

What an observation. A year had passed since that fateful day of the Fullers’ kidnapping but for Kate it felt like yesterday. Yesterday her father dragged her and Scott across state to the Dew Drop Inn in their family’s RV. Yesterday she met Richie Gecko at the poolside; flirting and sharing a cigarette with him while talking about random stuff before he proceeded to kidnap her. Yesterday she and her family were fighting for their lives from bloodsucking monsters in a bar…the same place where she first kissed Richie twice before Seth interrupted them. So much had happened in that one day yet it was enough for Kate’s entire world to implode. 

Those three months in Mexico with Seth, she told herself to hate him and his brother forever for what they’d done; for the pain they inflicted on her. Kate died once already bearing hate in her heart for the Geckos. Neither of them were deserving of her mercy or compassion. Maybe if she’d been as jaded and guarded as Scott was, things might’ve turned out differently. But unfortunately Kate was cursed. Cursed to empathize with even the most heinous people; searching for something human inside them. Her father always used to say that she’d possessed a light in her soul which was why her ability to love and see the good in others was so strong. And to Kate’s astonishment, she’d ended up doing the unthinkable…falling in love with one of her former kidnappers. Richie Gecko; the most tortured of tortured souls she’d ever encountered.

She should’ve known better but Kate was young. She believed in Richie; shared a connection with him. He told her he wanted to protect her; she’d seen into his heart while under Amaru’s control. Kate saw Richie for the man he was and who he could be. When everyone else was quick to dismiss him or feared him; she trusted him. Kate hated Richie Gecko but she also loved him with all her heart; with everything she fought against. It hurt so much loving him the way she did. He was the first boy who’d ever broken her heart and yet the one person she didn’t want to live without. Even if Richie never wanted her and existed a thousand years without ever mentioning her name again…Kate would still love him. It became her tragedy to suffer alone.

“I forgive too easily. I guess that’s kind of my downfall.” Kate shrugged crestfallen; sweeping her fingers through her tangled hair as her green eyes sparkled. “My heart always gets me in trouble. Pretty stupid huh?”

“No. Well…maybe a little naïve,” Castiel awkwardly encouraged; blue eyes dolefully gawking the young woman beside him. “But I think that’s what makes you a unique individual. You humans are already a complicated species; even I’ve found myself confused by your relentless assortment of emotions. I admit to being envious of it; especially after my brief stint as a human myself once. But for someone like you that has an ability to see through a person’s darkness...is a rare gift Kate. I’d hardly qualify that as stupid. It is admirable.” 

Kate’s expression instantly softened into a simpering smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She felt it inside once again as she looked back at Castiel; that twinge of hope. It moved her that an angel thought so highly of people considering the bleak side of humanity. 

“We better get you out of here,” Castiel suddenly proclaimed; shifting around the front of Kate to assess her steel cuffs. “I’ve already dispatched one of the guards at the automatic gate so they’ll be looking for him soon.”

The optimism quickly fled from her face. “You…you can’t.” Kate replied faintly; leaning back against the wall.

“Why?” Castiel bleated; blue eyes narrowing.

“That old man…the one in the hat…he put some sort of spell on these shackles; it’s like my energy is being drained.”

The doe-eyed angel docility inclined his head at the porcelain girl. 

“You mean Willet? This is his doing?”

Kate slowly nodded. 

Shoot. Just when Castiel thought he’d been cut a break in finding one of the Gecko brothers’ people and gaining her trust; the attempted rescue turned out to be for nothing. He’d risked his life sneaking into the building with Mary Winchester and the amulet on his mind; knowing full well if the necromancers discovered what he was they’d scheme to imprison then control him. The angel was so certain he could’ve prevented the outpour of Willet’s apocalypse; he had faith that he could win this for Sam and Dean. Still regardless of how hopeless it was, Castiel refused to quit.

“Kate…why is Willet keeping you prisoner?”

She sighed; gaze drifting. “He…wants me to be a catalyst; said he had to collect and orderly administer certain items for his ascension… He doesn’t just want to take back Xibalba; he wants to create a new world.”

“And these restraints?” Castiel inquired. 

“They’re to suppress my energy until the final ritual. Scott and I tried everything but…we couldn’t even get them off. That ranger told me he was the only one who could remove them.”

“If that’s the case, then there’s no harm in trying to counteract these magics,” The angel maintained impassively; eyes procuring the encryption around the cuffs on Kate’s wrists. “I’ve been exposed to dark power in the past; consequently the time I was the under the influence of a witch’s spell.”

The young woman’s brows snapped together; coughing. “Witches exist too?”

“Yes, they’re among many other aberrations that Sam and Dean have fought.” Castiel’s expression dulled fixated on the chains connected to the wall behind Kate. “Now brace yourself, I’m going to try something. I sure hope this works.”

But just as the skin of his palm grazed the steel shackles, a powerful shockwave of intense energy surged throughout his entire body; flinging him backwards, opposite of the girl. The second thing he felt was his skull colliding into the cement wall; concussion spared by his celestial strength. He could hear Kate shrieking amongst the head throbbing. Gasping with widened eyes, Castiel was overcome with forebodingness. Never had he’d experience power like that. Not even from Lucifer, Rowena or Crowley. It was completely alien territory.

Cheeks blowing air rapidly, Castiel’s head propped up; using his arms to pull himself into a sitting position. The startled young woman just winced. Although the angel was relieved that she wasn’t physically harmed; rubbernecking him with beguiled eyes, his mind kept racing as he stared hard at his hands; struggling to make sense of that unknown dark power which seemed to be protecting the girl from him. 

“What was that?!” Kate cried.

“I…don’t know,” Castiel rumbled huskily; face hardening as he slowly climbed to his feet. “This magic is….abundant; not even my powers can penetrate Willet’s encrypted seal barrier around your cuffs. And I…don’t recognize these antediluvian markings; it’s not Enochian. This has to be Xibalban magic.”

“So…there’s nothing you can do?”

The angel’s eyelids lowered defeated. “I’m sorry Kate.”

“You tried. There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

Failure sunk in which resulted a melancholies frown upon Castiel’s lips; settling beside her. Minutes passed. Finally after Kate had time to breathe and gather her thoughts, she lifted her dismal gaze towards the angel.

“Then if you can’t free me…” She started hollowly. “You’ll have to leave me here Castiel.”

“No. I’m not leaving you.” The angel abnegated. 

“You have to. If Willet finds you he’ll…” Kate paused briefly as her energy dwindled, steadying her voice before continuing. “You need to warn Richie and Seth…”  
Suspiciously, Castiel cocked his head sideways; narrowing his eyes at her. 

“Warn them about what?”

“I don’t have time to explain you just have to trust me Castiel,” Kate’s wet green eyes were pleading. “He can never get either of them alone; especially not Seth… If he does…something bad will happen.”

The stoic angel apprehensively turned from the girl, wearing an inscrutable expression; eyes scanning around the cell intensely. Suddenly flashes of that Mayan iconography he’d absorbed from the Gecko brothers while healing them flooded his memories. He’d been puzzling over that ancient text ever since it’d come to his attention. Sam and Dean were already made aware and yet schemed to keep it a secret until they could shed more light on the matter. But it was long overdue for an explanation. According to Kate, Seth and Richie’s great significance was also valuable to Gary Willet’s ascension; which meant their lives were in danger. 

“Willet has plans for the Geckos…doesn’t he?” Castiel persisted; exchanging taut expressions with Kate. “I should’ve known; this has to do with that antediluvian Mesoamerican language I saw inside them. They have role to play in his apocalypse.”

Kate’s eyes widened; lifting her brows. “You…saw something inside them?”

“Yes.” The angel sighed; occasionally keeping eye contact with the disconcerted young woman. “They were injured in a fight and I was asked to heal them. When I touched their foreheads, I was overwhelmed with an ancient knowledge absorbed into my mind.” Castiel rested a palm against the surface of his temple. “I hadn’t figured out what it meant but ever since then I’ve been convinced that your friends are of great importance…destined for some grand design. And now Willet is targeting them…this can’t be a coincidence.”

Kate looked lost; struggling to maintain the overload of information Castiel had simultaneously dumped on her. Clearly she’d been out of the loop a lot longer than she figured.

“When you were alone with Seth or Richard; did they ever mention any of this to you?” queried the angel. “Did they ever say anything about…what their purpose in this world was?”

“You mean besides robbing banks at gunpoint and having their heads up their ass from time to time?” Kate muttered derisively; folding her arms. “No.” Thinking back suddenly her time under the demon queen’s influence shook away the cobwebs. A notion that came to light. “But…there was one other thing…”

“What?” 

Kate’s perturbed gaze dropped to her folded hands resting on her lap.

“When I was possessed…Amaru mentioned something about Richie being dangerous…and she used him to unlock Xibalba’s gateway after capturing him. For some reason she seemed worried about Seth and Richie together…I never understood why.” Eyes skyward, she noticed the angel was gaping at her fascinatedly. “Do you think this is about their destiny?”

“It is a probable assumption.” Castiel concurred solemnly. “At which case warning the Geckos about Willet’s agenda becomes imperative. I’m just…conflicted about leaving you behind knowing of your fate in this.”

Kate reached out her hand and covered his, giving it a gentle squeeze; trying to console his worries. Of course she was terrified. Castiel could see it in her face; felt that fear radiating off her. A maniacal monster planned on destroying this girl’s world along with everyone she held dear. And he was going to use her life to achieve that goal. But Kate didn’t have the luxury to obsess over such doubts; her friends needed her to be strong. She had to warn them before it was too late.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be alright.” Kate coaxed softly; sadness in her eyes. “As long as Richie and Seth are protected from Willet…he won’t hurt me. I’m his last priority…”

The angel’s expression was dour. “We will get you out of this Kate. I promise.”

She nodded. “You have to go now.”

Before Castiel reluctantly stood up to exit the cell; he held Kate in his steel glare attempting to press two fingers against her forehead. “Here…I want to at least take away your physical pain.” He gently stated. After some time of acknowledging those wounds; the thought of abandoning her injured felt inhumane. 

However the moment he touched Kate’s cool skin, Castiel was triggered by an abnormal sensation. Images of blood, thousands of screaming sacrificed souls and a mystic well flooded his mind; he found himself gasping as if he were drowning in a sea of torment. Similar to his situation with Richie Gecko, the angel absorbed unwarranted information from Kate Fuller; significant details. Spending all this time talking with the young woman he’d learned a few things about her life; especially her death and resurrection. Death was nothing new for him or the Winchesters but this girl’s death had changed her; not just mentally, emotionally or psychologically but also physically. Kate was human…but she was also different. 

Removing his hand after finishing the healing process, brows furrowed in a haunted complexion; Castiel was confounded.

Kate scrutinized him quizzically. “W-what’s wrong?” 

“You’re a...Psi?” The angel stalely grills; stunning the girl. “I’ve heard of humans with such a rare anomaly and never encountered one until now but…your ability…it has not yet manifested. It’s…locked somehow. Kate you’ve been branded with the second sight.”

Kate sat speechless, unsure of how to process Castiel’s declaration. She opted to think he was kidding; but did angels carry that much of a sense of humor? The girl had no idea what any of this even meant. A Psi? What the hell was that? Just as Kate was about to press him further they were interrupted by the wailing of an alarm; piercing the air in a high pitched frequency. The jig was up. Someone knew City Hall had been infiltrated. Whether that person responsible was Castiel or the Gecko brothers, Kate didn’t care; she just knew the angel had to escape. 

“Castiel go!” She cried; pushing him off the bench. “Hurry!”

The angel craned his neck; lapses eyes impassively browsing the cell as he climbed to his feet. Immediately he picked up a malevolent energy source he wasn’t fond of; same thing he felt back at the Day of the Dead festival. Willet. It had to be him.

“Someone’s coming.” He affirmed icily. 

“GO!”

Quickly Castiel took cover crouching behind the divide next to the toilet; tightening his jaw waiting for the menacing miscreant to show itself. Not surprised when he peeked around the corner watching as the old hombre necromancer in the cowboy hat storm into Kate’s cell with a small drone squad. 

“Sorry lil’ darlin’,” Willet kicked away the food tray; scattering the contents all over the cold floor. “I recon you had yourself an uninvited guest this evenin’ and that individual will be dealt with accordingly. But we are indeed pressed for time as it is and I ain’t about to keep the jamboree waitin’.”

Grabbing Kate’s chain with both hands; the old hombre effortlessly yanked it free from the wall and snatched up the frail girl’s bound wrists. Kate trembled; glaring at him in disgust as he carefully brushed her hair back then tossed her into the awaiting arms of his drone guards. As they hauled her out of the prison following Willet; Castiel seething and armed with his angel blade unconsciously darted after them.

“Stop!” The angel growled; halting the old hombre and his band of leather abominations in the middle of the holding cell hallway. Raising his weapon, Castiel locked taut glares with the sinister Willet. “You’re not taking that girl anywhere.”

Kate panics; unable to struggle due to the spellbound shackles. Willet chortles in his throat; deliberately strolling towards Castiel with his hands up derisively. This is fun for him.

“I warn ya friend; I ain’t got no beef with you nor the time for a grand hoedown,” he sneers devilishly. Then Willet’s coal glare darts between the angel and his wrist watch. “And unfortunately neither do you so ya might wanna back down that there lil’ sharp contraption.”

Castiel refuses to yield; storming forward with his blade until Willet directs his attention to his watch. 

“Uh ah, see this there?” the hombre points at the seconds ticking away. “I’ve arranged a very hefty explosive final act for the evenin’; something yourn lil’ Men of Letters might appreciate.” Castiel’s hostile expression immediately shifts into wide-eyed anxiety. “Now seein' as I am in such generous spirits; I will bargain… You can resume your foolhardy attempt at rescuin' that sweet lil’ precious back there or…I allow you a chance to save your friends before they’re crispy critters. Choice is yours.” 

Castiel glares as Willet, boldly touching the tip of the angel blade with his fingers tracing upward. The sharp weapon manages to nick him but the old hombre playfully sticks his finger in his mouth and sucks at the blood. Flinching back, Castiel curls his lip in disgust.

“Careful there partner…I know what ya are and I reckon God’s own messenger ain’t got the merits to match ma divinities. Shame really. An angel…sure would make a…Hell of a fine specimen for ma drone army.”

“Never!” Castiel husks; shoving the old hombre back. “You won’t get away with this!” 

Willet laughs sadistically; clapping his palms together. “I already have friend. Best you giddy up on that chuck wagon, ya only have what…” averting his eyes to check the watch. “Less than twenty minutes before this here deadly curtain call closes? I doubt them boys will survive the blast.”

Castiel is out of options. Reluctant to leave Kate behind yet none the less he races past Willet and his goons, down the halls towards the stairwell. Saving his friends is more important right now, he needs to get to them before it’s too late; the girl will be safe. The old hombre won’t hurt her until he gets what he wants from the Geckos. Something he’ll make certain never happens as long as he lives.

“Oh, they are on the fifth floor!” Willet calls after the disappearing angel; as he and his drone bodyguards leave in the opposite direction.  
________________________________________

“Damn you son of a bitch!” Richie heard Dean Winchester snarl in the background under the grip of a drone; fighting to get his hands free. 

Slowly heavy eyelids reopened.

Sam and Seth’s voices were shrieking in Richie’s ear; demanding to know what was happening with him. The building alarm blared like pins and needles in his brain. Blurry visional yet the vampire could just barely recognize the outline of Dean’s hostile frame, struggling to fend off Willet’s motorcycle minions; which he’d been scuffling with in the hallway. What a time for crap to hit the fan. The bravado hunter was right though; this was not the place for things to go wrong; not when they had targets on their backs. Meanwhile Richie was desperately fighting to regain consciousness but the thirst…it was too much. It was all he could think about. He was out of strength and hanging by a thin thread.

“Richard! Richard! Talk to me buddy!”

If only the vampire could just concentrate a little longer on his mortal sibling’s voice imploring him to snap out of it; hold onto every rasp texture of Seth’s urgent vocal cords maybe he could push through the hunger burbling in his stomach. But everything hurt. His whole body was crying in agony; licking his dry lips while suffocating on the inside. No this couldn’t be happening. Not now. Richie couldn’t die like this…not without seeing her face one last time. Kate. She had to be safe before he allowed Hell to take him again. Thinking about those lively green eyes staring back into his, her strawberry scented hair and the touch of her skin soft as silk; she was like touching a piece of heaven…bringing fourth an unimaginable pain even worse than the starvation.

But as excruciating as death felt; nothing compared to the how painful it was hurting Kate that day at the carnival. He’d been swimming in regret since her abduction. No; since that night at the blood well when he watched her die in front of him; hating his guts. Because of that he’d never been able to forgive himself. Richie’s languid blue irises began to laminate with tears; guilt washing over his face as he swallowed hard. Eventually the vampire couldn’t even hear Seth’s voice over the ear device anymore or notice Dean knifing the culebra drones accosting him into ash and cinders. 

“Richard!” Seth’s voice echoed on repeat. “Richard!”

And then the alarm drowned out. Near stillness. He welcomes the reaper. There’s no sense denying it any longer. Richie wants to die. He deserved to die….for all he’d done. Maybe he was better off. The vampire had been living with that horrible secret longer than the recent lie he told his mortal sibling regarding their destiny; and it was smothering him. Coldness encircled Richie causing him to shiver; struggling to move his arms. As his eyes started to roll skyward, Dean Winchester was at his side; repeating the sequence of shaking him and smacking the vampire’s jaw; hollering at him to focus. 

“Hey kid!” exclaimed the bravado hunter; grabbing his face. “Come on stay with me damn it!” Still no response. “Richie!” 

That did it.

First time Dean calls him by name and it’s enough to pull his soul back into his dying body. Eyes darting at the hunter’s.

“Quit shouting…I hear you.” Richie coughs groggily.

“Hey there you are.” Relief washes over Dean’s face; kneading the vampire’s shoulders. “Can you move?”

“No...” 

Carefully the bravado hunter cupped Richie’s face with both hands inspecting his pupils which are dilated. His body drenched in a cold sweat. He didn’t need a doctor’s license to recognize a very sick vampire. The question was how the hell could he help him? He’d never seen anything like this.

“We gotta get you out of here before the rest of the cavalry show up.” But before Dean even endeavors lifting Richie’s body to stand, the vampire stops him.

“No…w-we have to save Kate.”

“We’ll deal with that later. First we need to get your ass on out of this place before you Sandman out on me again.”  
Richie shook his head delirious; wheezing as he breathed “J-just leave me here. I’m better off… It’s what you want…isn’t it?”

“The Hell are you talking about?” Dean’s forehead creased grimly.

“It doesn’t matter… The only thing that does matter…is making sure she’s safe,” Taken aback, the bravado hunter noticed tears swirling around in Richie’s blue eyes. “Please… I promised her I would protect her…”

Wide eyes and shallow, rapid breathing; Dean was lost for words. It was strange feeling this way about a guy he didn’t exactly hit it off with in the beginning. Yet there he was; feelings of animosity quickly replaced by concern, empathy even pity. In a way Dean felt responsible for Richie’s life; leaving him alone…this vulnerable was unthinkable. He couldn’t imagine what that would do to Seth; something he all but related to as he reminisced times he’d lost Sam. Cheeks throbbing, the hunter rubbed his mouth and stared solemnly into the culebra’s woeful glare.

“Now you listen to me you son of a bitch; I’m not leaving you behind!” Dean barked; squeezing Richie’s shoulders. “I know what it’s like to lose my brother. I went through hell and back for that kid. And trust me you never get over something like that. So regardless of what I think of you Geckos…no one should have to feel that pain. If you’re staying, I’m staying.”

Richie was rubbernecking hazily at the bravado hunter, completely dumbfounded. This was unexpected. He was almost certain that Dean would’ve been thrilled to watch him perish. Instead he wanted to save him? Richie wasn’t used to experiencing this sort of underline compassion; not from someone he barely knew or liked. And he watched intently as Dean pressed his ear device to regain contact with Sam and Seth.

“Sammy, come on back! I need your help!”

“Dean!” Sam blared hyperlinked. “Dean, what the hell happened? Are you guys okay?”

The bravado hunter frowned darkly; eyes focused on the vampire suffering in front of him. 

“No… Richie’s dying Sam. I need to talk to his brother.”

Immediately there was a clutter amongst what sounded like indistinct bickering and the radio frequency on the other end turned into white noise. Dean didn’t have to guess who’d just taken over the communication.

“What the fuck is going on over there Bravado?!” Seth snapped; nearly bursting his eardrum. “I’ve been yelling my head off for the past ten minutes and no one’s been telling me jack shit!”

“Ah, language dude!” cringed the hunter; squinting his eyes. “Yah well while your fang bro’s been hanging on by a friggin thread, I was a little preoccupied with being Randy Savage’s dinner.” Dean deadpanned cynically. “Now you’re either gonna quit bitching and tell me how to save his life or he’s gonna die right here!”

There was a miffed sigh amidst the panicking but it sounded like Seth was trying to get a grip.

“What are his symptoms; no rock unturned. I want every damn detail.”

“Sweating, wheezing, dilated pupils; loss of color,” the bravado hunter scanned over Richie. “And he can barely move. Does that sum it up for you Dr. Drew?”

“Jesus Chris, Richard’s malnourished you idiot; he needs blood,” Seth crackled after taking a moment to answer. “Tell me where you are; I’ll come to you.”

“Are you friggin nuts? He doesn’t have that long!” Dean shook his head; gnashing his teeth. “He’ll be dead by the time you get here!”

“Hey that’s my fucking brother asshole! He needs blood and I’m the only one who can give it to him!” 

The hunter wore a downcast expression. “No…you’re not. We gotta plan B.”

Like a bolt of lightning, a thought crossed Dean. Right away he shoved his hand into his jacket and fished out the demon knife sitting in his belt; exchanging glances between Richie hunched over disoriented and his reflection in the blade. Rolling up the sleeve of his left arm the bravado hunter realized he wasn’t just about to replenish a vampire; he’d be sharing a piece of his soul since it wasn’t actually blood culebras fed on. This meant Richie would be exposed to all Dean’s memories; every private moment of his life; the good, the bad and the tragic. Every secret he ever carried around would become Richie’s secret. Was he ready for that? 

For a split second Dean was discouraged. But watching Richie slowly deteriorate; thinking of Seth provoked the decision. If it was blood the vampire needed; he was going to get it. With the knife place over his forearm covered in old yet visible scars, Dean carefully sliced into his skin; groaning as the instant sharp pain struck him. He’d done this before a million times and still his body hadn’t forgotten how excruciating it was. 

“Here, take it kid,” the bravado hunter held his arm close to Richie’s mouth; fresh blood pooling from the incision which was dripping on the carpet. “I’m not gonna have your death on my conscience.”

The vampire stared at Dean with cow-eyes; nostrils flaring hungrily over the sweet metallic aroma. An animalistic growl releases from his throat. Richie could practically taste the hot blood; tingling on his tongue. But instead of accepting the offer, he vexingly shunned the hunter.

Shaking his head; eyes squeezing shut. “N-no!” 

Dean immediately cradled the weakened vampire’s head with his free hand; coaxing him to drink. “Come on we don’t have time for you to get shy here. If we’re gonna save your friend I need you at full Optimus Prime mode!”

Richie still refused. Dean rubbed a hand over his stubble; lips set in a grim line. Lecturing the vampire would just dispirit him. So the hunter promptly tried a placid approach; softening his gruff voice into a tone he’d used on Ben and Claire formally.

“Look man…I know you don’t wanna go out like this. Do you really wanna leave your brother? Or Kate?” The muscles in Richie’s face tightened at the very mention of her name as he peered at Dean. “Think about her; she needs you! They both do. You can’t save her if you’re dead.”

The vampire’s shoulders slumped defeated; sighing. “Y-you do realize I’m gonna see your whole life…right?”

Dean waved his hand dismissively.

“Whatever dude. Just hurry up and do it quick before I change my mind.”

Hissing Richie clutched the bravado hunter’s arm with both hands; elongating his fangs and plunged them into flesh. Dean lets out a mild grunt shutting his eyes as the vampire drinks greedily and quickly; guzzling from the open wound. But the second this man’s blood enters Richie’s system he sees inside his soul; everything goes black and a graveyard of images from the Winchesters’ life flashes within his mind like a home movie. Memories that were not his own. 

Everything occurs all at once. Every particular skill picked up over the years, the vampire acquires; fighting styles, tinkering with his car, preforming exorcisms. Even dexterities the hunter seized as a Men of Letters legacy; nothing was hidden. Chapters of Dean Winchester’s life randomly unfold at warp speed yet Richie can pinpoint exactly through each of the reminiscences articulately.

There’s a burning house in Lawrence, Kansas. So they’re Kansas boys like us, Richie muses. A man in his mid-thirties wearing an evening robe carries a baby in his arms…Sam; handing it to Dean as a young boy. “Take your brother outside as fast as you can. Now Dean; go!” he shouts after the boy as flames swallow up his mother Mary Winchester on the ceiling. John Winchester…their father the ex-marine; Richie gets a full detail of who this complicated man was through Dean’s eyes. 

“Most important?” John asks Dean; just before leaving his kids alone in a motel the Winchesters are staying at. 

“Watch out for Sammy.” The boy replies eagerly with a hint of sadness lingering in his eyes.

In a whiplash Richie sees how the brothers were raised into warriors to ensure their survival; how much Dean looked up to their father even though it appears John was never there for him. Based on a scene of a young boy barricading himself in a room crying; Dean worshipped and equally resented his old man. His eyes were always inflicted with anguish; even while he cracked a joke. No matter how hard he tried to live up to John’s expectations it was never good enough. Dean became more of a foot soldier in his dad’s marine core than a son. 

Richie loosely related to that; especially since Ray Gecko didn’t give a crap about him either. True Seth was Ray’s favorite to torment but Richie was practically invisible. The vampire wasn’t sure what was worse; living in alienation of his parents or having his alcoholic father acknowledge him the way he did Seth. Somehow the latter seemed better.

Sam and Dean are children dressed up like Batman and Superman; chasing one another and laughing until Super-Sam jumps off the shed roof getting injured in the process. The scene shifts back at a ratty motel where eleven year old Dean is fixing dinner for seven year old Sam; spaghetti-Os. This is followed up with the older Winchester helping his younger brother with his school work. Then it switches to Dean sneaking into a rock concert against his father’s permission. Richie can feel himself snickering inside watching the young hunter act out his rebellious phase. 

“Jerk.” Sam tosses at Dean teasingly.

“Bitch.” Dean retorts cleverly.

The Winchesters are an inseparable pair; carving their initials into the impala as kids with a knife then on a wooden table as adults. Even when they bicker and fight their strong bond never falters. Not even their love for their mother comes between them. Watching these brothers have each other’s back; go to the ends of the earth for one another no matter the risk, is making the vampire jealous. Richie feels their love; it’s exceedingly strong yet co-dependent as is his relationship with Seth however what Sam and Dean have is genuine, sincere devotion. Something he desperately misses having with his own brother again. 

Endless images of the Winchesters battling monsters as growing boys, teens, twenties and thirties deluge the vampire’s mind; shifting to heartfelt moments between the brothers as they shed tears, exchange beers, prank one another or embraced each other like it’s their last breath. Seth never hugs him like that. In fact Richie can’t even recall the last time they were that affectionate with one another. It actually bothers him.

Dean glassy-eyed, declares to Sam. “There ain’t no me if there ain’t no you!” 

Yep, Seth and Richie held the same principles once. Of course certain circumstances happened changing the course of their relationship. As the vampire delves deeper inside this guy’s soul the more excruciating it gets; yet he still chooses to venture through the memory vault.

“I need you to be safe Sam, okay.” The hunter sputters as Richie is then introduced to his protective older brother greatest hits. Killing and brutally maiming monsters, human and supernatural, that’d harmed his younger sibling. Those were the same foundations which compelled Richie and Seth to survive their father’s abusive household. The Gecko brothers looked out for one another because they were all each other had. Trust and loyalty was important to them. Family first. The vampire would die for his mortal sibling before he’d ever let anything happen to him.

All of a sudden a random redneck looking older man steps into the picture; pudgy, reddish bushy beard and mustache wearing a hunting vest and worn out baseball cap. Bobby Singer. The Winchesters looked up to him like a second father figure. 

“They’re supposed to make you miserable that’s why they’re family!” Bobby shouts combatively at Dean. 

“I mean it. You die before me and I’ll kill you.”

“Idjit.”

On the surface judging by his no-nonsense attitude Bobby didn’t seem like the cuddliest guy in the world; but through Dean’s eyes Richie sees how much that man loved the Winchesters as his own until his dying breath. Witnessed Bobby playing catch with Dean in the park; taking the boys deer hunting, watching 80s action movies together. Oddly enough this Bobby was a lot like Richie’s Uncle Eddie only grumpier. If both of them were still alive they probably would’ve gotten along or fought like bitter old ladies. The day Bobby passes away in that hospital with the Winchesters watching the heart monitor flat line is difficult for Richie. His eyes fill with sorrow listening to Dean; crying out the old man’s name repeatedly in tears. 

For some reason Richie feels compelled to go to him but before he can even move; the hospital disappears under his feet into a chasm. And he’s experiencing an array of the bravado hunter’s bleakest moments; from Dean’s short period as a vampire to his year imprisonment in Purgatory. It’s a place where he brutally kills already deceased monsters in order to survive; befriending Benny, another vampire in the process.

Dean has a kin darkness on par with Richie. And both of them daily seek redemption for terrible acts committed. The hunter was forced to kill against his will; something Richie unfortunately comprehends like with that teller woman. Gaining the mark of Cain; nearly obliterating his soul. Richie surveys the First Blade’s effect on Dean emotionally, mentally and psychologically as he mercilessly impales his targets. These recollections are hard to absorb. And it was traumatic experiences like this that, in spite of his bravado confidence, left Dean severely scarred and damaged.

“How can you care so little about yourself?” Sam asks his melancholy older brother. And Dean’s many responses to this in later years become more and more disturbing as Richie looks on;

“You see a light at the end of this ugly-ass tunnel. I don’t” 

“I’m going to die with a gun in my hand.”

Telling some punk kid in his twenties dressed in camouflaged gear, looking for revenge. “I’m past saving.”

Richie free falls into the black abyss and plunges into what looks like a tattered old warehouse; graffiti symbols and pentagrams covering the walls and ceiling. Pieces of cardboard boxes scattered on top of a larger pentagram painted on the floor. Dean is there with Bobby. Both of them are armed, terrified and waiting. Outside the vampire can hear thunder. Then the electricity sparks the saucer lamps overhead, the front doors blast open; a familiar figure wearing a beige trench coat stolidly shuffles towards a confused Dean. It’s Castiel. They shoot at his chest but the bullets are useless. This must be the first time they met. 

“Who are you?” the hunter demands. “I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.” Castiel impassively affirms in a deep voice. Right away Dean is skeptic but after a failed confrontation the angel reveals a shadow of his wings in the background. From that point on, Richie knows these two will share a sentimental bond as he’s treated to assorted images of their relationship; sometimes its bloody and complicated, but mostly it’s endearing and uniquely affectionate. They are family.

“You’re the best friend we’ve ever had.” Dead proclaims to the speechless angel next to him while they’re diving in the impala. “You’re our brother Cass; I want you to know that.”

Richie can’t help feeling emotionally affected by this.

Abruptly the vampire is flung to a field and its nightfall; mindful of the Winchesters going toe to toe with Lucifer himself to prevent the apocalypse; later resulting in Castiel’s death, Sam lost in a pit and Dean entering brief domestic bliss. But it wasn’t just the aimless memories of the bravado hunter’s doomed life with Lisa and Ben, his budding friendship with Castiel or battling monsters with Sam; Richie earns knowledge of every time Dean has died just as he said. Torn to shreds by an invisible creature after a deal he’d made trading his soul to save Sam. Sent to Hell where he was tortured and forced to torture others; 

“SAAMMM!” Richie sees Dean screaming in agony blood oozing from his mouth; hanging by a web of chains ripping out of every area of his body. So they had Hell in common too huh, who knew? 

The scenery morphs into a boiler room with hot dripping pipes. Another angel like Castiel, middle aged, short and curly grey hair; dressed as a hobo reminding Richie of an elderly hobbit; mercilessly runs Dean through the heart with a sharp blade killing him. This had to be the lucid Metatron Castiel couldn’t stop angrily ranting about at the festival. The guy was like a feeble little troll than an all-powerful celestial being of the lord.

Sam is unable to prevent this outcome; tiredly carrying his dying brother back to their car.

“No…its better this way…” Dean slurs as he bleeds out choking on his own blood. “Sam…I’m proud of us…” are his final words before perishing in his brother’s arms. Tears instantly spill down Richie cheeks. STOP. He doesn’t want to see anymore. No more, it hurts too much. Dean’s immobile corpse is lying on a bed where Sam put him; suddenly his eyes snap open and they’re coal-black. The hunter becomes a demon; the very thing he fought to protect the world from.

And then déjà vu; Richie’s vigilant of a beautiful woman with dark hair wearing a flowing midnight dress…Amara; infiltrating Dean’s mind with tireless promises of false affection. “We’re bound, Dean.” This woman tells him stroking his face alluringly. Immediately the wounds left from Santanico and Amaru are reopened. Evil maniacal women, another thing they shared. Richie acknowledges what it felt like to have his mind toyed with and this infuses him with anger.

Its daylight, Richie’s now in a cemetery with the Winchesters, Castiel and a few unfamiliar faces; a red haired woman and a sickly average Joe type guy in casual clothes. “No chick flick moments,” Dean says to Sam holding back tears as he prepares to sacrifice himself to stop the darkness. “You love chick flicks.” Sam responds part playfully and part bittersweet to which Dean sadly follows up with a “You know I do” throwing his arms around his taller brother. 

So much pain. Didn’t these two ever have one happy story in their lifetime? 

Mary Winchester enters wearing the same white satin nightgown she’d died in; Richie assumes this is where the satisfying family reunion starts. He’s wrong. Immediately there are complicated situations involving Mary’s arrival stemming from her feelings of alienation over a changed society to dealing with her two adult sons. She’s so withdrawn rather than gracious to be together with her boys again in the beginning; it’s heartbreaking.

“I love you,” Mary tells them with mixed emotions. “I love both of you.”

And Mary actually takes off leaving Dean with serious abandonment issues. Shortly after, she goes behind their backs and gets in bed with the British Men of Letters. This sucks. Richie knows exactly what that feels like. The Geckos’ own mother left when they were very young; it was probably one of the reasons why they were so screwed up now. Abusive alcoholic father and absentee mother; crummy upbringing tends to create the worst in a person. Sam and Dean at least grew up knowing love and security despite the everyday horror show. Seth and Richie lived their lives in fear and cruel punishment until Eddie came took them in.

Throughout this intense journey of pain, suffering, danger, often humor and many losses; Richie begins to understand who Dean Winchester is… In many ways they’re so alike it’s scary which would explain the current antipathy. They’re almost cut from the same cloth; souls bound in shades of grey although these days Richie’s grey area is much shadier. But the bravado hunter isn’t alone in the dark, he has a light. Just as Seth, Kate and Scott are Richie’s tether to his humanity; Sam, Mary and Castiel are Dean’s tether in the harsh world he lives in every day.

Finally Richie disengages his mouth from Dean’s arm spraying bits of blood; gasping for air like his head had been held under water for hours. Fangs retracting. His visual is still blurry from tears but regains a sharp 20/20 again; realizing he’s back at City Hall and the hunter is crouched eyeing him wearily as the alarm wails in the background. Amazingly enough, Dean notices the color coming back into Richie’s pallor. The dilation of his irises recedes. Even his body temperature has warmth. He looks better although now wearing an overwhelmed expression; both palms pressing against his forehead, fingers splayed. 

“Hey, welcome back to the land of the living.” Dean clamps a hand on Richie’s shoulder. “You okay? Your eyes look a little…wet.”

“Is that a rhetorical question?” Richie responds; swallowing back scrambled emotions and rubbing his hands down his face. Regardless of his confused state he can’t refute how good it feels to taste human blood again; particularly from a good soul. “I’m fine; just need a little personal space.”

Dean backs off tending to his wound, giving the vampire a minute to gather himself. Ripping a strip of his t-shirt the hunter improvises it into a bandage; wrapping it tightly around arm. At the same time Dean is surprised receiving little to no gratitude in return. Should’ve irked him but he ignores it.

“What did I miss?” Richie prods impassively; shaking off the residue of his stroll down Dean’s memory lane. 

The bravado hunter climbs to his feet and helps Richie to stand. “Other than me throwing down with members of the Hell’s Angels while you nodded off to Neverland? Not much.” Then he glances over his shoulder for anymore assailants. “FYI, if we’re gonna find your girlfriend and get that amulet we better jetlag in this bitch; cause more party crashers are coming.”

“Alright, so what’s our next move?”

Dean’s about to respond; then out of the blue his and Richie’s ear devices crackle and snap. Speak of the devil. Sam and Seth’s voices are pulsating for updates on the vampire’s status quo and the mission at hand. Seth is of course the most anxious; rightly so considering he had to listen to his preternatural sibling close to death’s door. 

“Richard, you stupid son of a bitch!” the older Gecko brother bellows. “I swear to God I’m gonna kill you for the Hell you keep putting me through.” 

The vampire wrinkles his nose; tapping the device deadpanning. “Hey brother, it’s nice to hear you too. I’m alive by the way, thanks for asking.”

“Well thanks for giving me a heart attack little shit. Don’t ever pull a stunt like that again you hear me!” Richie rolls his eyes as Seth barks at him like an over exaggerating parent. Taking a quick breather he resumes. “So I take it you got a blood donor; guess Bravado really came through for us huh?”

Dean and Richie simultaneously exchange inscrutable faces.

“Yep.” Replies the vampire stonily.

“Good, now get your bloodsucker ass back here.”

“We can’t Seth, not until we find Kate.”

“Do I have to come over there and smack some sense into that snake brain of yours? This isn’t a negotiation. Abort the mission Richard.” 

Richie purses his lips nonchalantly. “Sorry brother, not happening.”

Dean takes that as cue to jump into the conversation. “Sam, got any word on Cass? Maybe he found this Kate person.” 

“I was reviewing the camera feeds where Cass was last seen in the basement level,” Sam flickers over the device. “And in the hallway it looked like he was about to faceoff Willet and his drones. That’s when the footage jacked up. Dean, they had a girl with them.”

“Kate!” Richie exclaims heatedly. The hunter quickly clutches his arm to keep the vampire from stalking off in a rage. 

“You thinking he’s still down there?” the older Winchester inquires.

“Seems legit but Dean; Willet’s dangerous. We don’t know how to stop him. How exactly are you planning on killing this guy?”

“I’ll improvise; stay in touch Sammy.” Dean signs off and turns his attention to Richie. “Alright I’m gonna go grab Cass and Kate. Meantime you’re gonna hightail your ass on back to headquarters.”

“Screw that; I’m coming with you.” Richie retorts.

“No you’re not! You almost friggin died.” Scolds the bravado hunter; glowering at Richie. “You just had your battery recharged, that don’t mean you’re good to go. And I can’t be stuck babysitting you while I’m fighting these ass-clowns.”

The vampire scrutinizes Dean. He’s already got a bossy older brother; no way does he need a second one. And this guy definitely isn’t his father.

“We both know you don’t have the strength to take him on alone. Willet almost killed you and your brother back at the cemetery; remember? You’d be dead if I hadn’t shown up. I’m not leaving you.”

Dean’s stress level is rising and they’re wasting time Cass doesn’t have. 

“Damn it; it’s like herding cats. Go back to the friggin cars!”

The vampire crossed his arms disparagingly. “No.” Lips pressed tighter.

Richie and Dean’s argument is on the verge of escalating when a familiar trench-coated figure is seen running towards them. It’s Castiel; shouting at them frantically the closer he gets; his expression unusually panicked. Both men are dismayed. The bravado hunter’s forehead puckers. He’s relieved to see his friend alive, but why isn’t Kate with him? And where is Willet? A feeling in Dean’s gut tells him something’s wrong.

“Cass?!” 

“Dean, I’m relieved to find you both,” The angel scans over the two men; right away noticing Dean’s bandaged arm. That can wait though. “But we have another dilemma to worry about. Hurry, we have to vacate these premises immediately.” 

“Why?” Dean presses urgently. “Cass what the hell’s going on?”

“Willet’s rigged the building with explosives. And they’re set to detonate in…” he glances at his watch. “Less than four minutes…” 

“Son of a bitch!”

“What about Kate?” Richie demands; putting his gun away glaring at Castiel. “Where the hell is she?”

The angel shakes his head; ushering the two men to follow him. “No time, we have to go now!”

Quickly, Dean, Richie and Castiel are racing through the halls and down the stairwell to the main floor. Panting like they’re running a marathon. Each step the hunter glances at his watch in hopes that the clock remains on their side; but the minutes are ticking fast. Finally they reach ground level but now it’s time to make a dash for the exit. As they stumble over the sprawled corpses in the lobby; keeping pace with one another, the countdown begins. With the glass doors in their reach, Richie grabs the handles and holds it open for Dean and Castiel; following after them.

10…9…8…7…

The three men are now in the parking lot; zig zagging past a few stray zombies gaining as much distance from the building as possible. Dean looks ahead and realizes the two black vans from earlier had been moved. He doesn’t dwell on that; more concerned with throwing his body to the ground just as City Hall explodes. Richie and Castiel both protectively shield themselves over Dean as a rain of glass sprinkles from the tall broken windows. A wrathful fire, reflected in Richie’s spectacles, breaks out in every floor as the structure shakes and crumbles; turning into nothing but rubble. It’s over. 

Climbing to their feet the vampire suddenly spots Willet and his drone squad escaping into the black vans. They’re escorting someone; a young female prisoner slumped over with bound wrists and ankles. Her flowing brown hair grabs Richie’s eye. Then he sees her face. Kate. She’s alive. Thank God. He hadn’t seen her since Texas; being this close to her is agony. The vampire can feel his heart skipping wildly, if he still actually had a heartbeat. Even so he can’t contain himself, recklessly darting towards her until Dean intervenes.

“Kate?!” Richie shouts; reaching his arms out to her. “KATE!”

The girl hazily lifts her head up acknowledging the vampire’s voice; glancing over her shoulder. The lifelessness in her gaze gives way to astonishment. Words are almost lost to Kate yet she finds the strength get them out in two syllables.

“R-Richie…”

“KATE!” 

Dean notices tears swallow Richie’s eyes as he and Castiel restrain him; he’s devastated. But there’s nothing they can do for her; leading the young Gecko in the direction of the bushes where their siblings are waiting by the cars. The vampire’s abhorrent eyes seethe as the old hombre politely tips his hat smirking while his drones haul the girl into the back and slam the door. Climbing into the cab, the two black vans pull out of the parking lot; disappearing through the highway of wreckage. She’s gone. And Richie failed her once again.

“Come on.” Dean says softly; tugging at the vampire’s suit sleeve. “We can’t help her now.”

“Kate was there…” Richie utters stalely; gaze fixated on the empty road ahead of him. “She was right there.”

“I know.”

Castiel wasn’t good at comforting people but he knows how much Kate means to the younger Gecko brother. He’d spent a short while learning about her. Wanted to save her as much as Richie. And the guilt was already eating away at him.

“We will get her back Richard.” The angel assures the disgruntled Richie. “Be grateful she's alive. Willet won’t harm her…not as long as he does not acquire his next components for the ascension. That much I am confident.”

“What do you mean?” 

Castiel’s gaze is crestfallen towards the vampire. “He has plans for her…” rotating his gaze at Dean. “And the Gecko brothers…”

“How the hell do you know this?” Dean grimaces; forehead creased.

Dourly the angel insists. “Because Kate told me…right before Willet permitted me to save both of you. Above all else he wanted to make certain Richie survived. ”

Richie and Dean are caught off guard over the angel’s last response; standing there with befuddled expressions. Cat’s out of the bag. Apparently the secret Richie had been keeping no longer has merit. It was going to be a tough conversation to have but luckily sleep would hold. Taking into account of Sam and Seth’s impatience; the three men start back towards the cars; knifing corpses along the way. Kate is still fresh in Richie’s mind though; like an old wound refusing to heal.  
________________________________________

Gary Willet sat perversely in the passenger seat of the SUV; gazing fanatically out the window watching the carnage spread. It’s music to his ears. Next to him in the driver’s side is his absent-minded culebra drone Frank; dressed in Harley Davidson gear with a crossbones tattoo stamped on his exposed right bicep. Tonight he did his master proud and will be rewarded in due course. While the old hombre is pleased with the way things went at the Day of the Dead festival; there’s still a notch in his plans for ascending Xibalba. The Gecko brothers have new friends helping them; something he hadn’t anticipated.

Night is wearing thin; soon dawn will break. Drowned in his obsession for gaining more insight into these…Winchesters, Willet’s cellphone buzzes obnoxiously in his jacket pocket. Sighing the necromancer ranger digs for it; checking the caller ID. Maximillian Cross. Ah yes, his most essentially trusted ally. He doesn’t really need an update since they’re psychically bonded; but he’ll humor the creature anyway. Clicking on to respond and putting the cell to his ear; a scantily grin pours on the old hombre’s lips.

“Cross, I take it things are goin’ well on your end?”

“Exceedingly sir; everything’s being prepared for the final rituals,” But Willet detects a hint of discouragement in the corpse’s voice. “However, the Winchester woman refuses to talk. I know you didn’t want a hair harmed on her head but in this case; can we make an exception?”

“No,” the old hombre growls; eyes blazing. “I told you that there Goldilocks is our wandering soul and is to be handled in a delicate manner. Ya ain’t gonna catch bees with vinegar son. When I arrive we’ll be gettin’ our scoop on them Winchester pups; that I assure you.”

“Very well, but seems like a god damn waste of a good torture thrill if you ask me.”

Willet ignored Cross’s arrogance and moved the conversation along. 

“I have our precious catalyst secured in ma possession,” asserted the ranger necromancer; looking over his shoulder at the unconscious porcelain girl in another drone’s arms. “Lil’ darlin’ was mighty shaken up over her near reunion with los hermanos Gecko.”

Cross cheekily cackles. “Bet that really screwed lover boy up.” 

“It was a grand sight to behold. Did ya happen to pick up a certain…souvenir I had authoritatively requested?”

“I sent the Fuller kid down to Xibalba with our spies to retrieve it two hours ago.” The corpse gurgled on the line. “And he surprisingly came through. I must say sir; your Blade of Torment is a thing of beauty… You did some real damage with this thing back in the day. I can’t wait to use it on mama Winchester’s brats.”

“Oh it ain’t for them boys.” The old hombre crustily corrects the corpse.

“Who’s it for?”

“I got a specific Gecko in mind for that there blade.”

Willet can hear his corpse minion hooting with excitement in the background before returning to the call. 

“Ah yes, our very own young Richard Gecko had quite an encounter with this blade during his year in Xibalba.” Cross crows. “I wonder what it’ll do to him this time around.”

The old hombre’s grin widens as he watches a horde of zombies feast on a man and his children by their smashed car along the highway; his pupils dilate hungrily. Cross has no idea the dark thoughts currently running through his mind. And every time he reminisces about that knife, the years of torturing dead souls with it; the necromancer can hardly compose himself. It’s the deadliest tool in Xibalba; his favorite. To be reunited with it after so many centuries; is the equivalent of being reunited with a long lost friend or companion. And Willet has a goal for that blade; it is crucial to his next phase in gathering all of the accessional ingredients.

“It ain’t for him either…” Willet hisses into the receiver. This sinister reply throws off Cross who’s stunned to silence. “Remember when I told you that there would be a more appropriate occasion for the older Gecko boy’s sufferin’? Well in order to extract that there sun core of Hunahpu; immeasurable pain must be administered.”

“You’re going to afflict that mortal’s body with the Blade of Torment?” Cross is practically drooling as he speaks. “But it will-

“Kill him?” the old hombre finishes maniacally; switching hands holding the cellphone. “That is the idea, Cross. Once I have successfully removed that core…the light between the Twins burns out forever. And darkness will indefinitely descend upon Xbalanque’s soul. Los hermanos Gecko will be…no more.”

Willet can hear the corpse clapping and chanting hysterically like a rowdy college kid.

“Yes finally! Sir you are fucking brilliant! Please tell me I get to do the honors. I wanna hear that Gecko scream in agony as I twist the blade in his gut and watch him choke on his tongue.”

“All in good time son, be patient.”

“But I still don’t understand why you let that angel go.” Cross chastises the old hombre. “And to top it off allowed him to save his friends? Excuse my language sir but what the fuck were you thinking?”

“I couldn’ very well now allow Xibalba’s greatest weapon to perish in ma light show could I?” retorted the ranger necromancer icily; sprawling his leather gloved fingers. “And Cross I swear to the pits of Hell if I ever hear you question ma methods once again I will be skinin’ myself a new rug…” he leaned back in his seat. “Besides…that Castiel may prove useful to us down the ol’ beaten path. Mean time you are to strictly deal with them Men of Letters.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long; this chapter was going on forever so I had to rewrite the ending. But here it is the next part of my SPN/Dusk crossover Epic; featuring the first Kichie flashback scene, a cameo of the Peacekeeper and some new twists/ interesting dynamics which will play out in chapters to come. Happy Halloween and enjoy! ^_^ Please comment below if you wish, I love getting the feedback.


	9. Chapter 8

City Hall, Albuquerque…

…Winchester’s impala…

…2 hour earlier…

Sam Winchester sat in the driver’s side of the car; busily monitoring Dean and Richie’s status. Inside he’s worried sick about his older brother as usual; the bickering he often overhears between the duo on the opposite end isn’t helping his nerves. Seth Gecko meanwhile, sitting in the passenger seat, has made off with the bravado hunter’s Fat Burger fries from earlier much to the other hunter’s annoyance; scarfing them down as he impassively watches the feed on Sam’s computer. He’s also worried about his brother; hoping that kid won’t get himself into another kafuffle or killed. Richie can be reckless; his big brain has previously got him into trouble.

But Seth is bored to death. Can’t even listen to the radio. And once in a while he catches Sam spying on him out of the corner of his eye. 

An awkward silence is settling in much like the night is fading and it’s really starting to stiffen the air between Seth and Sam. Neither one is very good at making polite conversation. The tall hunter is an enclosed broody and slightly weird techno-nerd while the young tattooed ex-bank robber is a walking motor-mouth with attitude. What exactly did they have in common besides the supernatural? It was bad enough they even got stuck on the sidelines with each other. Still, Sam was curious about the Geckos. Reluctantly he volunteers to drop the first topic; pretending to clear his throat as he watches Seth down his brother’s leftovers.

“Ah, not that you’ll care but…I don’t think Dean’s gonna appreciate you hijacking his French fries.” 

Seth averts eye contact; chewing impulsively as he stares at the monitor. 

“Mmmm, you’re right,” he sneers arching a sly brow; popping another fry into his mouth. “I don’t care.”

Sam’s expression chagrins; glancing up at the car ceiling. Unbelievable. Guess polite small talk is out of the equation. The younger Winchester brother is usually very easy to get along with others; very laid back. But this Gecko kid is a real dick and he makes no bones about it. It’s getting harder and harder playing good cop for Sam but he’s not about to tap out now.

“Yah I noticed,” Sam dribbled; feigning a lack luster smile as he fixated on the laptop. This was probably a complete waste of time but the tall hunter was persistent. “Okay so you like fast-food, what else do you like? I mean besides robbing banks. Any hobbies?”

Seth stopped chewing; surprise curled his lips with icy contempt as he glanced at Sam. The shaggy tall hunter immediately heeded the hint of did-he-really-just-ask-me-that look from the tattoo suited Gecko. Sam simply gulped nodding his head. He really did suck at this.

“Oh I’m sorry were you trying to Chatty-Cathy me now BFG?” the older Gecko brother deadpanned; arrogantly tossing the empty fry box behind his seat. Sam’s cheeks throbbed abashedly. “Cause if you are, you’ve got even worse social skills than my pain in the ass younger brother; and he’s a pro at bullshitting people.”

“Yah that was a bad icebreaker; sorry I asked.”  
Seth wasn’t done.

“Hey Green Jeans?” Sam self-consciously faced in the older Gecko brother’s direction. “I ain’t your pal or your flunky. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing with that doe-eyed Bambi gaze you’ve got going on; I’ve got X-ray vision for that shit. I’m not out here for my health. I’m here because Richie fox-holed me. And if it were my plan I’d be the one in there ending this whole thing right now.”

The taller hunter forwarded his palms. “Dude, seriously I was just trying to kill time.” Seth rolled his eyes scratching at his stubble neck. “I’m worried about them too you know. I just thought that maybe since we’re both kinda stuck here…it wouldn’t hurt to get to know each other a little; you know since we’re all working together. But you’re right, we’re not friends so what does it matter?”

Right then Seth gave Sam a sour look. Detecting a hint of sulking from the hunter in that last response; watching their brothers boldly maneuver their way from the parking lot to City Hall on the monitor. Really? Why in the world did this guy want to know anything about his life or what he cared about? It’s not like they were going to be pen pals in the future. Nor was his life anything exciting. And chances of them surviving the apocalypse were pretty much slim to none. Regardless it irritated Seth that the tall hunter took it personally so…he decided to humor him.

“Movies.” Seth grumbled under his breath. Instantly Sam perked up; turning to the older Gecko brother. “All kinds. Classics. Action. Sci-Fi. Spaghetti-westerns. Even the occasional horror. Richard and I’ve pretty much been cinema buffs all our lives.”

Sam nodded with a simpering quirk. 

“Yah same here. I swear Dean and I can’t go a week without hurdling at least one or two pop-culture references. Growing up…we were always on the road so whenever we did see a movie…Dean or our dad used to sneak us inside… Got any favorites?”

Seth shook his head; rubbing his chin. “Too many; but ah…if I had to choose then I’d go with Scarface, The Untouchables or…Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.”

Sam chortles mildly; baffling the tattooed Gecko. It amazed the tall shaggy hunter that a guy this young had an appetite for old flicks such as those. 

“It’s like you’re Dean’s brain twin. He loves those movies.”

“That so huh? Let me guess,” Seth leaned in with a clever expression. “Star Wars geeks too?”

The tall hunter nodded; pursing his lips. “Who isn’t? You?”

“Meh the new films suck balls. Nothing beats the original trilogy.”

“Well my brother would definitely take your side there. Kinda had to drag him to see part seven with me.” Sam grins to himself. “He can’t stand my taste in film or music.”

“I believe that considering how Bravado and Richie both wailed on you during our Bond debate.”

Strained muscles and pent up nerves subsiding. Sam and Seth synchronously chuckled. At last the awkward tension was fleeting. Both men started to actually feel a little comfortable in one another’s presence. Still nowhere near close to being friends but at least they could tolerate each other. And just as the tall hunter had successfully managed to melt the ice he pressed onward with inquiry.

“Anything else...besides movies?”

The older Gecko brother’s brows snapped together; thinking. “Yah, seventy-five grand back in Houston….” With his index finger, directs Sam’s attention toward Richie’s skulking figure on the monitor. “…that son of a bitch right there and ah… some mystical beach I plan retiring on someday are all I really give a damn about.”

“What beach is that?” Sam asked curiously.

Seth turned to the hunter, pressing his clever lips tightly as his tongue rolled around. “The snakes call it Elrey. Me? I call it the King, which is how I’m gonna live.” 

Sam shrugged; lower lip overlapping the top as if to say you-lost-me-dude. “Elrey?” Seth figured he’d fill in the blanks. “Never heard of it.”

“Yah it’s supposedly this heavenly paradise. Never seen it myself but it’s out there and it’s got my name on it. And when this shits over; Richie and I plan on hanging our hats there  
permanently.” 

The tall shaggy hunter nodded thoughtfully; folding his hands over the stirring wheel. 

“Yah, know the feeling. I’ve wanted to run away to a deserted island myself; be this…normal person. But…it wasn’t exactly in the cards…” Seth set his jaw cocking his eyebrow while listening to Sam; so they did have something in common after all. “Is he your reason for doing all this?”

All of a sudden Seth’s face fell; right away Sam earnestly nodded; chewing his lip. Couldn’t argue there. Family was just as important to the Winchesters if not the most important thing to them. Sometimes love like that tended to get in the way of their hunting; it put them in danger most of the time. And yet Sam and Dean had no regrets. But listening to the way Seth regarded his brother saddened the tall hunter. It was obvious how close the Geckos were. Even more so that Richie’s tragic affliction was an issue for Seth; it had to of been. Sam sensed it. He too knew was it was like to shoulder a curse. 

Richie probably felt the same way; like a monster. Those times when Sam’s psychic gifts got out of control due to Ruby’s seductive influence; turning him into a crazy demon blood junkie was terrifying. Enough to shudder at the sight of his reflection. No matter how hard tall shaggy hunter tried to scrub the startling images; they were like fragmented shards forever lodged into his mind. Had Dean not been there, Sam probably would’ve crossed a line he’d never be able to come back from. And while his naivety did bring forth Lucifer’s apocalypse, the Winchesters never stopped atoning. 

“It must be hard; dealing with it.”

Confusion dawned on Seth; squinting. “Dealing with what?”

Sam’s eyes glinted. “Richie’s condition; mean it couldn’t have been easy…for either of you.” That withdrew the older Gecko brother; who’d taken to inscrutably staring out the windshield. A harsh sigh released and Sam knew it was a heavy subject for the young man. “So how’d it happen?”

Silence cut through the conversation. Judging by Seth’s contempt gaze and pinched lips, Sam figured he should leave it alone. Too messy maybe. The kid had already shared more than he cared to for one night. He had nothing to prove. So the hunter decided to duck down into his computer.

“Forget it,” Sam gesticulated. “Sorry.”

Just as he thought Seth’s silent treatment would hold up…

“Over a year ago at a bar…down in Mexico; the Titty Twister. We get there hoping to close a deal and the whole night I’m walking around with this…horrible feeling in my gut. Like something was gonna happen…” Seth grimaces; lifting his gaze at Sam, who was wide-eyed taken aback by the provocative bar name. Regardless the older Gecko brother went back to explaining. “Turns out the place was a fucking snake cesspool. An all you can eat human buffet served up under the guise of table dancing hell whores. First time I ever saw these ugly bastards up close; thought I was coming out of my own skin. It wasn’t the whiskey I knew that much.” 

Sam blinked; staring at Seth with cow eyes. But the older Gecko brother isn’t paying attention; lost in thought as his dark eyes glint.

“It was a God damn nightmare; a massacre…bloody…we were fighting for our lives… Some got out…others didn’t….Then our old pal Ranger Gonzalez takes his piece to my brother’s back and squeezes the trigger without blinking. Next thing I know the Queen of the Damned bitch’s pulling Richard’s body away from me. And we’re separated like Raiders of the Lost Ark. Hours later he shows up, bullet wounds gone and he’s sporting a new face lift.” Seth paused midway running his hands up his face; raking them through his dark hair. “Later I took it as sign of karma...for all the bad shit we’ve done… Seemed liked the man upstairs was just etching to screw us. But we probably had it coming.”

“I’m sorry. Believe me I know how you feel...” Sam condolences, dolefully gazing back at Seth. Even now after hearing this kid’s horrific story his pain is still fresh; tightening his face into a hardened mask. The older Gecko thinks he’s being discreet about how much it bothers him. And this is something Sam identifies with too well. Knows what it’s like losing his brother to supernatural evil. “So then what…you guys just…picked up and went after that?”

Seth makes slow movements with hesitation; licking his mouth while his eyelids droop. Reminiscing this seems to be hurting him. If the car had been loaded with liquor bottles he’d be chugging them down. 

“No,” Seth spills; hollowly staring into space. “Richard rode off into the sunset with his snake princess…and three months later I’m shooting up in some rat-den below the border with jailbait for company. Not exactly the Hollywood ending you were expecting…is it?” Sam doesn’t know what to say to that; Adam’s apple bobbling anxiously. The armor chips bit by bit; and Seth’s vulnerabilities are exposed. Near as Sam can tell this kid’s one sentence away from breaking down in the impala. “Wanna know the worst part? He doesn’t even care. Sure, Richie and I eventually got back to pulling jobs if we weren’t too busy kicking Hell’s ass; but it was never the same. Little prick can’t shut up about how great it is getting his bloodsucker on; rubs it in my face every chance he gets.”

Sam’s shoulders bow; forehead creasing.

“Did you ever…try talking to him about it? I mean…maybe it’s not so cut and dry as you think.”

Seth, mystified scrunches his face towards Sam.

“What? No! We’re not much for spilling our guts,” he demurred. “In the Gecko family when you gotta settle something you eat about it.” 

“Eat about it?” Sam repeated beguilingly.

“Something my Uncle Eddie taught us; it’s our way of talking. None of that sharing, caring, touchy feely shit I’m sure you and Bravado are used to.” The older Gecko jibed. “No, you break bread together and you just…allow it all to work itself out. Believe it or not it worked for us.” 

Sam blinks. “Um okay then, did you guys ever eat about it? Richie’s probably just as affected by all this as you are.”

“I doubt it.” Seth shrugs; wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “For him this is like winning the fucking jackpot. He’s Set for Life.”

But the tall shaggy hunter shakes his head dubiously. “No, I don’t think so.”

“And why’s that?” the older Gecko brother snorts; furrowing his brows. “It’s not like you grew up with the kid.”

“Trust me I’ve been down this road before with Dean,” Sam confessed; his demeanor more brooding as he lowered his eyes. “We both know darkness like that…it eats away at you. After a while you just…hide the pain. Do you really believe Richie enjoys the thought of living an eternity alone without his family? That’s a fate worse than death. If anything he envies you.” Seth went silent, soaking in the subtext of those words. The tall shaggy hunter licked his lips; face downcast. “He doesn’t show it…but it bothers him. And in spite of everything that happened between you two at that bar…your brother still cared enough to choose you in the end.”

Seth turned away; scoffing with a flicker of his palm. “Sure…”

“No, I’m serious man. And you chose to stay with him too…after what he became. You didn’t turn your back on Richie.” Slowly Seth regarded Sam; syphoning through his emotions. Brown eyes wandering. It nagged the older Gecko brother how much this guy he barely knew saw right through him as if he were glass. Worse he didn’t like getting sentimental; wasn’t his style. “You chose each other because you’re family…blood.”

“Well…I’m all he’s got.” Seth shrugged nonchalantly; lopsided grin. 

Two of the same mind. For a split second Sam and Seth felt they understood one another more than anyone; locking composed gazes. Sitting opposite sides of the car; Dean and Richie occupied their thoughts. Oddly enough the older Gecko brother wasn’t so reluctant anymore about talking. It was actually kind of nice having someone in a similar position; listening and venting to. He didn’t feel so alone and vice versa for the younger Winchester brother. Not that their siblings weren’t company enough but sometimes Seth and Sam felt a little isolated; craving normalcy.  
And just as Sam was about to dive deeper into the discussion; the radio crackles. Snapping the duo out of their trance. Checking the monitor; security cameras had picked up Dean and Richie inside the City Hall lobby where a brutal massacre had taken place. Corpses of former employees scattered all over the floor. Something went through great lengths to paint that glossy marble in red.

“What the hell?” the older Gecko brother barbed at the laptop.

“Watchtower…we’re inside.” Dean informed Sam and Seth grimly; standing in front of what looked like a dead woman slumped over the front desk. “And ah, let’s just say everyone here’s seen better days.”

“Casualties?” Sam replied adjusting his earpiece; silently counting bodies with his eyes.

“Nearest we can see, at least twenty bodies or so.”

“Twenty-five!” Richie’s despondent voice jumps in. Immediately Sam can see Seth smacking his forehead out of the corner of his eye.

“And all of em’ bit the dust hours ago.” Dean adds.

Sam hesitates a response; sighing as he massages his temples with his fingers. Meanwhile Seth’s expression is rendered unreadable yet he’s gawking incessantly at the shaggy tall hunter beside him. So many innocents died tonight. First at the festival. Then throughout Albuquerque and now this? More people the Winchesters were unable to save. And this was just the beginning of Willet’s assault; unless they stopped him. But how could they?

Finally Sam answers heavily. “You couldn’t have helped them Dean.”

“I know…but it still sucks,” His brother buzzes briskly over the line. “No sign of Hopalong Cassidy either and I’m itching to kill something.”

Seth snickers in his throat reacting to Dean’s cowboy reference.

“The security feeds show Willet’s heading for a conference room on the fifth floor.” The younger Winchester affirms; pulling up several black and white videos from the security cameras; watching the old hombre stalking the halls. Luck smiles on him when he notices a path void of any threats waiting for his brother and the culebra. Just what they needed. “You and Richie are safer taking the stairs on the east wing; far as I can tell there aren’t any drones guarding that way.”

“Roger that birddog.” Richie rasps at him. Then the line goes quiet. 

At this Seth tilts his head watching the monitor like a hawk; brows knitting. And he’s starting to sweat a little under his shirt. He can see his brother and the other hunter moving into the stairwell like a couple of cheesy action movie heroes. It’s enough to make his head explode. Dammit! He should’ve never let Richie go in there without him especially when the vampire wasn’t at one-hundred percent; what was he thinking? Sam glanced at Seth mutually; seizing the moment to calm the kid’s nerves.

“He’s with Dean. I know there’s not much comfort in saying that considering the mission they’re on,” the tall hunter suggests somberly. “But my brother’s the best at what he does. Richie can trust him.”

“Oh really?” Seth gibes guardedly at Sam; unconvinced. “Can I ah, count on Bravado not trying anything funny while they’re in there risking their asses for a God damn necklace? You better hope for his sake my brother walks out of that place in one piece.”

“Dean knows what’s at stake; he wouldn’t jeopardize his or Richie’s lives like that. Just…try to stay calm.”

The older Gecko brother scrutinized Sam.

“Who are you, fucking Montel Williams?”

The younger Winchester’s facial expression deflated; hanging his head. True, this kid didn’t need someone telling him not to worry. Sam had no more control over the situation with their brothers than Seth did. Necromancers, zombies, drones; Dean and Richie were treading in dangerous territory. Anything could go wrong. And the tall shaggy hunter sounded like a hypocrite assuring the vampire’s mortal sibling they were safe when they weren’t. 

“You’re right,” Sam agreed; watching Seth fiddle with his suit jacket buttons. “That wasn’t fair. Truth is I don’t know if either of them will make it out of there; knowing what Willet is capable of. I’m just going on blind faith as much are you are that they will.”

“Hey I know my brother can handle himself, alright BFG,” Seth scolded disparagingly; his index finger shot up in the tall shaggy hunter’s face. “But that snake brain of his has gotten him in a jam more than a few times. Nearly got him killed. And last time…Richie earned himself a one-way spot in Hell. So forgive me for not sharing your self-assured mentality.”

Sam frowned yet fought to remain optimistic. 

“All I’m saying is the only thing we can do…is hope for the best. I’ve been hunting with Dean my whole life and it never gets easier. We just gotta believe that they’ll make it back to us.”  
Blowing out his cheeks, Seth shoved his hands into his pockets; facing the window. Zero patience. Talking was cheap he needed a solution.

Waiting like this was brutal. And Seth killed for a least one of Richie’s cigarettes as he felt around in his jacket. No luck. Must’ve forgotten to snag a pack from his brother before they’d left Sunset Motel. Well they were preoccupied with the living dead attacking them at the time. Not that the older Gecko brother really smoked it was just something he’d do whenever his anxiety was through the roof; and lately it was a bouncing ball. And Seth doubted the Winchesters would be lenient to smoking in their car. It didn’t matter he just needed to distract himself.'

So while Sam kept busy directing Dean and Richie through City Halls’ fifth floor maze; Seth snuck out of the impala, keys in hand, to grab something from the cougar. He’d just remembered Castiel. The angel was listening to an MP3 player in the backseat of his car while riding down to South Valley. Low and behold the device was still sitting where he’d left it; earphones and all. Picking it up, Seth shut the car door and hurried back to Sam. Sticking in the earplugs while climbing into the car with the younger Winchester; Seth felt eyes on him. Awkward. Slowly he craned his neck to the left. Sam’s brows snapped together; setting his jaw.

“What?” Seth sputtered defensively.

“Isn’t that Cass’s?” Sam instigated warily. 

“Get off my back, I’m just borrowing it,” The tall shaggy hunter folded his arms; quizzically. For a second Sam seemed more like Seth’s interrogating babysitter. Jeez it wasn’t like the older Gecko brother was planning on keeping the thing. “Clarence isn’t exactly here to protest and since I’m forced to warm the bench with you I ain’t doing it bored out of my skull. Besides, I’ve had enough of the Carebears shit for one night.”

Okay. Sam wasn’t going to go there; raising his hands in front of him. Tossing Seth a grimace the tall shaggy hunter shifted his eyes away. This kid was free to do whatever he pleased while they waited so long as it didn’t interfere with the mission. And Castiel could deal with him later. With that notion in mind Sam went back to monitoring Dean and Richie’s progress of dodging drone guards in the building. 

Seth in the meantime turned on the MP3 and jolted when the whiny vocals of an Air Supply tune hit his ears. Quickly he switched the song and another 80s ballad played. Skipping to the next one and the one after that. Terrific; nothing but classic rock and wimpy power ballads. Some angel, didn’t he like anything else besides Bon Jovi? Dean Winchester popped in Seth’s brain and he groaned shaking his head. Spare no surprise; Castiel hung around mortals with rock musician aliases that killed monsters for a living. 

Finally Seth settles on the track “Believe it or Not” from Greatest American Hero. Sure it’s a little sappy but ironically didn’t bother him so much; he’d heard it playing on the radio in his uncle’s garage one time when he was a kid. Eddie was under the hood of his truck with a socket wrench; tinkering on the old thing. Losing himself into the upbeat lyrics; Seth unexpectedly feels a hand on his shoulder shaking him back into reality. He’s startled. Then Sam is in his face, mouthing his name which he can’t hear. So reluctantly Seth removes the plugs.

“What do you want now?” he snarls icily.

“Would you just bury the attitude for two seconds and listen?” Sam divulges anxiously; turning up the volume on the monitor. Leaning forward, Seth can see Dean and Richie crouching against a wall inches away from a room where he and Sam can now hear the old ranger’s rasp southern accent crisp as day. “They found him.”

“Sam, you guys getting this?” Dean’s gruff voice wisps into the com.

“In high-def.” The younger Winchester responds; pensively staring at the laptop screen.

“Yes the accession was an overall success…minus a couple hiccups. So no trouble at all movin’ Miss Goldilocks to that there Place of Dead Roads?” Goldilocks? He was talking about Mary. Sam seethed inside as his teeth gritted under a wrinkle nosed expression. “Uh huh. Excellent. Now you best remember what I told you Cross; she stays alive until the ritual. There ain’t gonna be no torturing that purdy darlin'. Understand not one hair on her head is to be harmed.”

Cross had his mother; he wanted to torture her. Over my dead body, Sam growls in his mind. The minute he got Cross alone it would be the last thing that rancid monster ever thought about doing. In between eavesdropping on what sounded like Richie going at it with Dean during Willet’s phone call, Seth notices Sam’s hands squeezed into firm fists. But the hunter didn’t have time to stew; they had to figure out what the old hombre was plotting before the next attack.

“I’ll be headin’ out with our precious catalyst soon enough,” Willet hissed pleasingly. “Yes that lil’ angel is indeed a sweet specimen; our ticket to rectify ma Hell’s paradise. I will. Gotta take care of a… few loose ends first.” 

“Catalyst? What the hell’s this son of a bitch yammering about?” Seth barks; exchanging condescending looks between Sam and the monitor.

The hunter shot up his hand quickly. “Shhhh! Just listen!” 

“Listen to what? Our siblings bickering in the background like the god damn Golden Girls?”

“This could be our chance to get something on Willet; possibly bring him down. So shut up for a second!”

Seth glared at Sam with sullen dark eyes; if looks could kill the hunter would’ve been dead instantly. No one told him what to do ever. If there was one thing he that peeved him more than people barking off orders it was being cut off. He hated it. None the less he let it slide; but only because this mission was bigger than them. Getting that amulet and their friends back was more important.

“I intend to. Ain’t no worry about them Men of Letters boys. Sure as the rawhide of ma hat there will be a reckonin’.” Sam swallowed hard at the very mention of his legacy. He’d carelessly revealed who he and Dean were while the necromancer was cutting off his air supply; thus making them more vulnerable. “They will meet their maker one way or another. And you have ma blessin’ to do as you please with them just…make it painful.” Seth rubbed his mouth petulantly. He wasn’t a fan of the old hombre’s choice of words in this conversation. In fact he’d wanted to pulverize this creep ever since he’d taken the Fullers. “Yes, phase three is already set in motion. I’ll be lettin’ ya know when… The Circle will once again thrive.” 

As the old hombre’s call cut off, Sam sat back in his seat; face despondent.

“They want us all dead.” He muttered.

“Gee ya think?” Seth deadpanned at the hunter. “We’ve been an itch in this old prick’s shorts ever since Richard iced his ghoulish henchman.”

“Yah but this is different,” Sam intonated; clicking away at the laptop keyboard. “My brother and I weren’t even on Willet’s radar until I mentioned the Men of Letters. We pose a threat to him somehow…otherwise there wouldn’t be a hit out on us. I gotta find out where Cass is before Dean and Richie are discovered in there.”

Seth’s sardonic expression contorted. “Who the fuck are the Men of Letters? Is that like some kinda alphabet club for postal workers?”

“No… Dean and I…we’re Men of Letters…well legacies.” The older Gecko brother’s face went vacant giving a you-lost-me-bro look. But the tall shaggy hunter explains while sifting through previous hours of security footage; watching for signs of Castiel. “They’re a secret organization of preceptors, observers, beholders and chroniclers of unexplainable mysteries. In other words…we’re kinda these badass librarians of the supernatural.”

“I thought you guys were monster hunters.” Seth scowled; cocking a brow.

Sam’s eyes are still glued to the screen. “We are. It’s…sort of a long story.” Typing away at the keyboard, the hunter came across a certain video log he’d been looking for. “Got it!” 

Finally the footage of the angel, very discreetly making his way down to the basement, pops up. Whew! Relief washes over the impala bound duo. It was still hours ago when this video was taken but still hopeful. 

“Well there’s our old pal Clarence.” Seth insolently quirks. “Wonder what he’s been up to this whole time.”

And just as Sam is about to give Dean Intel of his findings; he and the older Gecko brother abruptly hear the ranger necromancer giving instructions to what seems to be one of his drones. 

“I want you to take this here precious trinket and vamoose it out of the buildin’ to the vans. And you will not under any circumstances allow it out of your sight; is that understood?”

“Yes.” Answered a robotic voice.

“Good, now giddy up son.”

“Sounds like Elvis is getting ready to move the rock out the building.”

“This isn’t good.” Sam asserts bleakly. Moments later he and Seth survey the old hombre sauntering down the halls toward the elevators with a small escort of leather clad minions. Fortunately the younger Winchester brother remembered to hacked the lift cameras; otherwise they’d be out of luck. Sam’s stunned when he notices Willet punching the button for the basement level. Oh no, Castiel is there! “He’s heading for straight for Cass.”

“Big Brother, we’re gonna tail the WWE douche,” Dean informs Sam. “Looks like ol’ Skippy left him the keys to the kingdom so I’m gonna need you to keep tabs on this guy for us.” 

“Hold on,” Sam stops his older sibling. “I just went through the security footage to find something on Cass and it looks like he was spotted in the basement level; which is where Willet is heading now. Far be it for me to say that nothing about this feels right.”

“When does it ever?”

“Seriously Dean it’s too risky to get that necklace. You guys are better off grabbing Cass and hitting the road.”

“Yah I’m with Sasquatch on this one,” Richie’s despondent voice interjects. Once again Sam shakes his head at the culebra’s choice of pet names. “This whole thing smells fishy. Why would Willet’s necromancer club hold up in an office building after ascending the Apocalypse? It doesn’t make sense. And no way would he just let Amaru’s amulet randomly traipse out of range with Sid Vicious in a wooden box… He’s ancient not a moron.” 

Sam and Seth traded acquiesced expressions. However Dean was quick to cynicism; resulting in another flat out Gecko vs Winchester verbal dispute. Not again. The urge to face-palm couldn’t come soon enough.

“Alright then hotshot,” Dean scolds derisively. “Let’s hear your bright ideas of getting that amulet?”

“You’re gonna grab Captain Feathers and get Kate out of the building,” Richie gibes. “I’ve got the American Reject. If something goes sour at least I’ll know one of us would have made it out of this shit hole.” 

“Are you crazy? That plan friggin sucks! How do you know she’s even here or if she’s alive?”

“It’s a gut feeling but I know Kate’s here. I know it.”

Sigh. At this point Sam and Seth would rather tear off their ears than listen to any more of this crap. And their brothers were standing in each other’s space too; this is becoming worrisome. Bickering ensues between Dean and Richie for a decent few minutes then suddenly the culebra’s words slur during the beginning of a sentence; Sam and Seth helplessly watch him collapse against the wall on the laptop. All cockiness deflates from the older Gecko brother’s expression; panic-stricken. Then Dean is fiercely shaking Richie; trying to snap him out of it. 

“Kid? Hey, hey come on damn it!” Sam and Seth can hear Dean exclaiming over the com. “Snap out of it kid!”

The older Gecko brother can barely compose himself; feeling as though his stomach is dropping miles from a cliff. The last time Seth witnessed his preternatural sibling on the brink of death happened a year ago at the Twister when ranger Gonzalez shot him. And later the culebra’s sacrifice to Xibalba. He’d never recovered from either ordeal; agitatedly staring at a faint Richie struggling to open his eyes on camera. 

“W-what the hell’s wrong with him?!” Seth gimlet eyes the tall shaggy hunter in shallow, rapid breaths. “Why isn’t he responding?”

“I’m not sure. Dean?” Sam clenches his jaw then frantically contacts his brother into the device. “Dean what’s wrong; what happened?!”

“I don’t know. It’s Richie,” the older Winchester blathers. “He’s passed out.”  
________________________________________

Present time…

Richie, Dean and Castiel wandered wearily through the tall bushes where their cars were hidden. Avoiding zombies along the way. In the background they could hear unintelligible voices bantering or rather one shouting over the other. Richie cringed. There was no mistaking Seth Gecko bouncing off on all cylinders. Yep they were close by. Sam at least sounded like he was trying to be diplomatic and patient despite his own worries. Sure enough when the trio came into view; they’d spotted the tall hunter endeavoring to hold back the older Gecko brother from rushing towards the explosion. It was an all-out tug-a-war of verbal assaults and physical strength. 

But it didn’t take long for either Seth or Sam to come back down to earth the moment they locked eyes with their siblings. Safe and sound. Relieved expressions had replaced fear and anxiety; yet a twinge of bitterness remained. Seth swiftly yanked himself free from the hunter’s grasp and rushed towards Richie; Sam of course trailing behind him to meet up with Dean and Castiel. Looking the bravado hunter over, he appeared to be a little worse for wear. Retaining wounds from the cemetery battle earlier. Sam noticed fresh bruises on Dean’s face provoking his Adam’s apple to bobble wirily.

“Dean! Are you guys okay? We saw the explosion.” 

The bravado hunter nodded languidly; patting his brother’s arm. Still feeling the pain of the drone guard’s fist in his jaw. “Yah we’re fine, all things considered.” He rubbed his tender chin turning to City Hall in flames and switched his attention to the Geckos while Sam faced the angel.

Castiel looked meek; tilting his head sideways. "I myself had an interesting venture while I was sought out that amulet.” Confidence quickly fled the angel’s expression; eyes drooping dourly while his arms flopped to the sides. “Unfortunately…I wasn’t able to recover it or rescue Mary since Willet intended on keeping her elsewhere.”

“It’s okay Cass,” Sam gave the angel’s shoulder a sentimental squeeze. “At least you all made it out alive.”

“Speak for yourself BFG.” the older Gecko brother sneered; causing heads to turn.

Seth had other words to describe the situation; stalking up to his brother in a huff. The vampire didn’t need to guess what was about to happen; studying the cross, red complexion of his mortal sibling’s stubble mug. Another infamous Seth Gecko lecture, yippee; probably about the non-eating thing.  
“Oh shit.” Richie cursed under his breath; rolling his eyes in Dean and Castiel’s direction. “Here we go.”

“Mother fucker!” Seth bellowed, jabbing his preternatural sibling’s chest with both palms. “Richard, I swear to God if you weren’t already dead I would kill you for being an arrogant little shit. What the hell were you thinking?!”

The vampire kept his cool composure; expelling his breath. Inside however he was screaming at himself for losing Kate AGAIN. For not being in top form because he foolishly chose to sacrifice his health. And he didn’t want to fight with Seth. Not now. Richie’s knew his actions could’ve very well jeopardized all their lives. He got this. But he didn’t need it hammered into his brain every few seconds. Surprisingly Dean wasn’t joining in on Seth’s ranting and raving.

“What was I thinking? I was trying to get Kate and Scott back asshole!” Richie nuanced patronizingly; barging his mortal sibling back. “I put my ass on the line for yours again, just so you can die peacefully throwing back martinis in your tropical nursing home!”

“I never asked you to do me any God damn favors Richard!” Seth smacked the vampire upside the head causing him to scowl. “And don’t change the subject; you went in there on low snake juice nearly getting yourself and these two chuckleheads killed in the process.”

“AH! Yah well I didn’t; I handled it.”

Seth cholerically scoffed at Richie; motioning his hands at Dean. “No thanks to Bravado here. If he hadn’t bled for you…”

“I know that Seth!” The vampire glowered vexingly with no more manner than a sulking little kid.

Castiel exchanged awkward glances with the Winchesters; statuesquely standing in the background. The odd one out. Not that he wasn’t somewhat thrilled to be reunited with the group again; it was just getting tiresome listening to the Gecko brothers squabble back and forth. Their vulgar profanity wasn’t helping either. Quickly, Dean jumped in.

“Alight, hey! Hey enough!” he stretched out his arms; wingspan. “In case you two mooks didn’t realize we’re still sitting on zombie turf. So what do ya say we shut our pie holes and take a raincheck on the bitching until after we get a few hours of shuteye?”

Sam nodded obstinately. “Dean’s right, it’s not safe to stay out here. We’re better off taking this crap indoors out of earshot.” 

Richie shrugged crestfallen; raising his hand. “I’m cool with that.”

“I don’t require sleep,” Castiel articulated mono toned; receiving deadpan looks from the Winchesters and Geckos. “But I hardly object to the idea and I think it’d be best to continue this discussion back at the compound; particularly when everyone is suitably rested.”

Seth wasn’t budging. His aggravated dark eyes intensely seared through Dean. Hot enough to burn the rubber off the impala’s tires. Unexpectedly he stormed into the hunter’s face; glock in hand though he hadn’t flicked off the safety. Until tonight Seth probably would’ve gone with the flow; which he rarely did so easily for just anyone. And strangely he was actually starting to warm up to the Winchesters. But watching his brother almost die put things into a whole other perspective. For the first time he realized how high the odds were stacked against them.

“What about you Bravado, huh?” Seth barked. Dean didn’t flinch; exchanging glares between the older Gecko brother and his gun. Not that he felt threatened Seth would use it. But it occurred to Dean this kid was just looking for someone to blame; take the edge off. “This whole score was your bright idea numb-nuts. I mean where did it get us?! No amulet. No Kate. No mommy dearest.” The older Gecko brother’s eyes became even more livid; pushing the groggily hunter backwards. “We’re no closer to stopping this thing any more than discovering the lost city of Atlantis. So why the fuck should we listen to you?”

“Kid, I’m exhausted,” Dean gristles; rubbing his temple with both hands. “My head is pounding like a son of a bitch. I feel like I got hit with a train.” Quickly he flashed his banged arm in front of the older Gecko’s eyes. “And I just gave your bloodsucking bro a quart of my life. So I’m in no friggin mood to kick your ass right now. You don’t want to test me.”

“My brother could’ve died in there asswipe!” Seth countered; pointing his index finger at the bravado hunter. The vampire’s solemn blue eyes fell guiltily. “And that would’ve been on you.”

“Well newsflash Dick junior its whatcha signed up for. I told you there ain’t no fluffy kittens or rainbows in this job; people die.”

“Not me! I ain’t going out until I get to that beach.”

Simultaneously Richie wedged himself between his brother and the bravado hunter; stoic expression mirthful as his right arm shot up. He couldn’t listen anymore. Seth blinked owlishly; unscrewing his jaw staring up at the vampire baffled. He got the impression that Richie wasn’t just blocking a dispute. He seemed to be coming to Dean’s defense stunning both him, Sam and Seth. This was unlike him. Not once did the vampire ever take anyone’s side over his mortal sibling. Until now.

“It wasn’t his fault,” Richie muttered grouchily; pursing his lips. “I’m the one who went in there half-cocked. So if you wanna bitch at someone, I’m standing right here brother.”

“Damn right ya moron,” Seth snorted; trying to shove past the vampire. But Richie’s feet firmly planted in the ground rock solid. This only served to infuriate his older brother. “What are you doing, get the fuck out of my way Richard.”

“Just let it go Seth,” The vampire grasped the older Gecko brother’s wrist holding the glock; stirring him backwards. “Like you said…’we don’t have time for this shit. We got bigger things to worry about.”

“Oh, now who’s picking sides huh?”

“It’s not about that.”

Dean took the opportunity to interject; watching a tall and short zombie in stripped shirts scuttle aimlessly towards the cars. 

“Alright can we kill the melodrama crap for one second and get heck out of dodge before Eddie and Herman Munster pig out on us?”

Sam glanced over his shoulder; surveying more corpses shambling in their direction. “We’re making too much noise. There could be a smarm headed for us if we don’t leave now.”  
Seth’s brow twitched; stewing at the bravado hunter as he aimed the glock ahead of him. If he were any angrier he’d be a boiling kettle.

“Richard and I agreed to lend a hand in your little crusade,” he barbed. “Kinda like when you ah…swore to help us get our people back; remember that? Well we’re still shit out of luck getting back the Preacher’s offspring and really none of this is our problem.”

“You’re wrong Seth,” Castiel inscrutably riposted shuffling towards the suave dressed young man; trading attentive glances with the Winchesters and the Geckos. “This has every bit to do with you and your brother as much as it does all of us; including your friend Kate.” Seth recoiled himself at the very mention of her name, caught off guard back-tracking his steps from the angel. Keeping his gun locked on the shambling corpses approaching. “Willet has his sights set on the both of you. And I’m inclined to know why.”

Seth wasn’t biting; glaring derisively at the angel. Sam and Dean stood silently with dissecting inquisitive looks.

“Clarence I’ve heard some pretty messed up bullshit in the past but this is low standards even for you.” He jeered.

“It’s true.” Richie chimed in mechanically toned; stunning the older Gecko brother. Coming clean like this never felt more horrifying but he knew it had to be said. “I’ve known about it for a while; ever since the warehouse with Cross.” Suddenly all eyes were on the vampire. And when he surveyed Seth’s expression; he was seething. “He told me we were part of some ancient prophecy. I thought the guy was just full of shit; well… he smelled like it anyway. So I didn’t want to say anything until I had all the facts and I knew what we were up against.”

A reveal like this couldn’t have come at a worse time; especially after a botched mission. Richie hadn’t planned on this bomb slipping until after the group was out of dodge. Yet there it was, lingering on his lips waiting to drop. He just couldn’t hold it in anymore. Leaving Seth was with a look which Sam and Dean could only describe as disappointment.

“You what?” was all he could say; despondently staring back at the vampire’s shamed ridden face.

BANG! BANG!

“Uh guys?” Sam interrupted; shooting down zombies alongside Dean. “It’s looking a little Land of the Dead out here, we need to leave now!”

“Yah time to amscray fellas!” Dean bristled blasting through the stripe-shirted corpses. 

Seth on the verge of protesting sighed loudly; glaring at his preternatural sibling. Pressing his fingers against his temple; he felt himself about to implode. This wasn’t over’ not by a long shot. Richie had broken his promise. Another lie and yet one more item added to the long list of issues piling between the ex-criminal brothers. They were going to continue this discussion. Whether or not it involved fists depended on Richie. Then quickly the Winchesters, the Geckos and Castiel split making a dash for the cars; climbing inside and sped away. 

Later after the angel and the four brothers arrived back at the compound; they’d turned in for the night. Bitter, sore and exhausted. Seth refused to say a word to Richie; leaving the vampire to sulk outside the room alone. He didn’t feel like sharing his problems with the Castiel or the hunters either. So after a while of standing there internally bitter, Richie retired to his own quarters, shutting the door. Cold and vacant; no bookshelf, no collection of western movie DVDs or package of Sour-Patch Kids candies he’d keep on the nightstand. It didn’t feel like a bedroom or a home…more like a prison. Much rather preferred his digs back in Houston. Still Richie was tired especially when he’d spent all his energy fighting the thirst nearly getting killed for it. 

Switching off the light, sleep seemed unthinkable when Xibalba continued to haunt him. Seth was mad at him, the Fullers were still Willet’s prisoners; it couldn’t get any worse. Richie felt like screaming, standing despondently staring at walls; nostrils flared as his breaths quickened. Kate…she was there. He’d seen her, heard her voice just for a few seconds yet in that time frame felt like an eternity. But Kate was alive…she was strong. Richie always knew she was, given the times she’d boldly chewed out him and Seth; and when she fought off Amaru’s control from inside. That girl was as sweet as she could be a pistol sometimes. 

Taking out his cell to once again peek at Kate’s blurry selfie; Richie’s rhinestone blue eyes welled with despair shuffling across the floor. Collapsing in a slouch on the edge of the bed; languidly paying attention to the screenshot of a pretty girl next to him. If he could go back to relive that day of the carnival…prevent it all… For a week Richie tormented himself over these thoughts. Unable to get the last thing he’d said to her out of his mind. Idiot you stupid idiot, he cursed himself placing the phone on the night table until Kate’s picture went dark. Then he stripped off his suit jacket, loosened his tie and rested his head against the pillow; refusing to blink.  
________________________________________

The Geckos Compound…

…Monday, 3:04 am.

Covered in black protective gear from head to toe blending into the dark, a joint team of intruders surrounded the premises. Discreetly preparing to infiltrate and extract their intended target. In their arms they carried carbine weapons. Lethal. The outside air was humid yet each one sported a heavy utility vest, combat boots and night vision goggles. Silently the leader of the pack, wearing a green armband, pointed the B-team in the direction of the backdoors while his squad of eight unloaded their grappling hook guns; shooting several lines up the side of the compound building. 

Moving like phantom soldiers, the leader and his team swiftly scaled up to the roof. Carrying camouflage duffle bags full of smoke bombs and extra artillery. Once their feet planted on deck, they tactically aimed their rifles in front of them. Scanning for any signs of unwanted movement. Nothing. Not even a raven. Except for the skylight which the leader had verified. Peering down he could see it led into the kitchen. Using non-verbal language the leader ordered one of his troops to cut the glass. After a hole was made, another soldier attached a line of rope to a steel vent allowing the squad to climb down from the ceiling.

Landing on the floor one after another, the first thing they were met with was an eerie darkness permeating throughout the facility. Not a sound either. The squad leader and his second in command couched opposite sides of the unlit kitchen as the rest of the troops spread out taking positions entering the open space.

Switching on night vision; the leader picked up activity coming from the living room beyond the island separating two rooms. But no heavy breathing. Someone was sprawled out on the couch, hard to detect if the individual was asleep. No matter. Digging into their duffles the troops in black began unloading and tossing smoke bombs. A puff of compressed gases sprayed from the canisters, flooding the whole area with a sheet of thick white fog.

Immediately the squad leader could see a man in a trench coat explode out of the couch on his green visual. He dubiously searched around for the culprit, noticing one of the cans.  
But as the trenched coated man approached the source of the smoke, he noticed the tiny red beams aimed at his chest. Stonily he followed the string of light and locked gazes with the team leader. 

“Who are you?” demanded the man in a deep threatening baritone; squinting at them. 

No response.

The squad leader and his team disappeared into the smoke; out of eyeshot. Half-crouched; locked and loaded. Like a land shark lurking for an open opportunity to ambush the outnumbered prey. They didn’t anticipate this guy to be onto their movements so quickly. Attacking from behind and grabbing one of the black clad soldiers in a headlock; scuffling until the two fell through the coffee table smashing it to pieces.  
Meanwhile the squad leader and his second in command headed down the hall.  
________________________________________

CRASH!

“What the hell?”

Dean Winchester flung up from the bed, heart racing like he’d woken up from a nightmare. Only it wasn’t a dream, in fact he didn’t remember falling asleep. He actually heard something break in the next room. Followed by ricocheting bullets and muffled voices. Something was wrong. Quickly Dean scooted off the bed grabbing his Colt M1911A1 out from under his pillow, checking the cartridge before flicking off the safety.

As the bravado hunter approached the door with caution, he noticed the white billowy substance leaking in through the cracks. A fire? No, he didn’t smell anything burning. It was a smoke bomb. They were being ambushed. Throwing his bandaged arm over his nose to block the fumes Dean proceeded to turn the handle. Just as the door swung open he was accosted by an assailant in black padding and advanced artillery. 

Too dark to really tell but the bravado hunter could’ve sworn the guy was in the Black Ops division; judging by the tactical gear, helmet and the set of night vision goggles plastered to his face. He was definitely a soldier going on his knowledge of the Marines. The Winchesters had faced corrupt soldiers before, this was nothing new. But Dean had to act fast, tucking away his colt and making a move for the rifle.

Getting too cocky, the hunter lost his footing as the Black ops figure countered his attack; sweep kicking him to the floor. 

CLUNK!

“Ah, son of a bitch!” Dean snapped frustrated; carbine rifle flying out of his grasp.

He stretched his hand out for the weapon but no such luck. He couldn’t reach it. Dammit.

Amidst gunfire, the bravado hunter could hear what sounded like Sam, and possibly the Gecko brothers fending off more of these guys. Terrific, as if they weren’t exhausted enough taking on Willet twice in one night. Dean’s concerns were however focused on the goon sitting on top of his chest, trying to cut off his air supply. Grunting in pain from the bruised ribs he’d received at City Hall which Castiel had yet to heal. Probably should’ve taken care of that. Balling his fists, Dean launched a few right and left hooks into the solder’s helmet; shattering the goggles. The figure in black growled rolling off Dean, allowing him to regain his stance.

“You just messed with the wrong bull there Hoss,” he quipped, getting ready to jab at the guy. “Now you’re about to get the horns.”

Dean shifted opposite of his opponent; moving in again and firmly delivered a combo of punches and kicks. The guy was faster though; like lightening. He had to of been one of Willet’s drones. No human could move at that speed. And the intensity of his hits would’ve been enough to knock him out cold if he wasn’t careful. Blocking one of Dean’s fists, the figure executed an impressive roundhouse kick, sending him backwards across the room into the wall. But the bravado hunter shook it off; wiping away the fresh blood from his lip he fished out the demon knife.

If this was another culebra drone, he just had to get close enough to pierce the thing’s heart. Dodging through a collision of fighting maneuvers, the hunter managed to successfully hit his mark. Except when Dean stabbed the figure in black, he was dumbfounded realizing nothing happened. Pretty certain he felt the blade plunge through flesh. No instant spontaneous combustion. Huh? Instead the culprit mechanically removed the weapon from his chest giving no more thought to the pain than pulling out a sliver in his finger and in turn used it against the hunter.

Dean’s brow rose watching blood oozing out of the wound. “What the hell are you guys?” and he jumped aside as the blade sliced through the air where he’d been standing. “Whoa! Watch where you’re swinging that thing Silent Bob! You’re gonna poke someone’s damn eye out.”

Unfazed, the despondent creature in the black uniform continued to slash the demon knife at him. Ducking and countering every attack. Dean finally caught his wrist, fighting for control of the weapon. But the thing’s strength was unbelievable, for a second the hunter didn’t think he could hold on much longer as the sweat poured down his face. Gritting his teeth, Dean twisted the creature’s arm, shaking the knife free from its hand; kicking the assailant backwards. 

Again it charged at him. But Dean was ready; gaze like a hawk watching for an opening. Almost. Then tackling the thing to the floor, crashing into the nightstand; Dean seized the opportunity to rip the helmet and mask off the soldier’s face. Normal enough looking guy underneath, mid-twenties, dishelmed hair but Dean’s green eyes nearly popped out of their sockets surveying a mouthful of hissing jagged teeth and on his forehead was the infamous black unfinished circle. 

This thing was a drone but not a culebra. He was a vampire. The very kind Sam and Dean were used to hunting. Willet was recruiting vampire black ops soldiers now? That was a twist. Which meant the only way to kill them was beheading. And unfortunately Dean didn’t have his trusty machete at his disposal. So instead he made due, snatching up the demon knife. 

Without warning the vampire soldier darted forward, chomping his shark-like jaws; eyes bloodthirsty. Using his sharp hunter reflexes, Dean’s lip twitched as he spun around, counteracting the move and sliced clean through the creature’s neck; severing the head from its body. 

“Dean!” Sam Winchester shouted frantically from the doorway holding a bloody machete; zeroing in on his older sibling standing over a decapitated corpse. “They’re not culebras, they’re vampires!”

“Yah I got that.” Dean deadpanned, bustling towards his taller but younger brother. “Do we even need ask who sent Chomper and his pals over for a late night snack?”

Sam made a pensive face. “Common, we gotta get to Cass and the Geckos.”

The two hunting brothers overheard glass breaking noises followed by more shooting; simultaneously skulking through the hallway with their weapons ready. It was dark and the smoke made it even more impossible to see impending threats coming. But the Winchesters had keen senses like a lion, their father made sure of that. Blindfolded and the brothers could still dispatch their assailants. In fact John Winchester had his sons actually preform this exercise during their years of training. Not fond memories, especially for Sam.

BANG! BANG! BANG! 

In the next section of the compound the Gecko brothers were trapped in Seth’s bedroom fighting three other assailants in black amongst a smoky atmosphere. While Richie was busy wrestling with green armband guy and his second in command, Seth had just got off firing a few stake bullets at the taller figure aggressively storming towards him; with no effect. Just thick blood splashing the carpet. What the hell? The tattoo suited Gecko knew these weren’t zombies and was pretty sure culebras went up in flames if they got hit in the heart. 

When that failed Seth tried for the head, same results. Finally after being knocked into the closet, shredding it like cardboard; languidly climbing to his feet he decided the guns were pointless.

“Richard what the hell are these things?!” Seth exclaimed, evading the black outfitted miscreant’s fists; hitting the tall soldier’s abdomen with his own. “They don’t seem to go when you shoot ‘em.”

“I don’t know, why the fuck are you asking me?!” Richie snapped; yanking his opponent’s gloved hands off his throat and punching it in the face. “Do I look like a god damn expert?” 

“Well they ain’t snakes, just wasted my last few rounds on these scumbags for nothing!”

Frustration burbling inside, the culebra eyes shifted into slits; snarling his elongated fangs as he shoved away the second in command then snatched green armband’s helmet with both hands. Crushing it with excessive force, fingers leaving imprints; he pulled it off. But instead of another reptilian creature underneath, the Geckos were met with…Shark-man?  
Okay… 

“What the fuck?” the black suited brothers synchronously coughed. 

Seth then saw the Circle’s infamous branding on the creature’s forehead; pointing at it. “Hey isn’t that the old man’s handy work?”

“Yep.” Richie clarified stalely; biliously staring. “They’re Willet’s drones but they’re not culebras.”

“Yah no shit Sherlock.”

For a second Richie stood there spaced out in fascination. He could only assume the creature was of vampire origins; Xeroxing the weird jagged teeth in his brain. Necromancers only had the power to manipulate and control dead or undead things. So this thing had to be dead. Gawking proceeded until the razor-jawed fiend toppled the younger Gecko brother; delivering unforgivable blows to his mouth and chest. The creature’s moves were fast and fluid. Unwilling to take anymore punishment, Richie spat out blood blocking the next hit gaining the advantage; kicking green armband guy backwards. 

As Richie and Seth surveyed him they didn’t anticipate his other two companions ambushing them from behind. 

Strange as it was, these things were heavily armed yet weren’t trying to kill them. If anything it appeared as though they intended to capture them alive and unharmed. Richie noticed this when he barged through Seth’s door after hearing the gunshots and the breaking noises; watching as his mortal sibling was being dragged from his bed. This wasn’t a coincidence. Cross had warned The Circle would be coming for his brother. For what purpose he didn’t recollect nor did he ever want to find out. 

Infused with incentive rage, the culebra flipped backwards to his feet; kicking and punching the other attackers. Spinning around Seth, Richie then focused his attention on green armband guy.

“Let’s see whatcha got Sharkboy.” Gibed the culebra; gesticulating taunts.

Without warning the razor-mouthed creature darted at Richie, who evoked a composed and confident fighting posture. He didn’t know what this thing was and he didn’t care. If it could bleed it could die. Good thing his vision wasn’t impaired by the smoke. Playing defense as he prefer to do until an opening presented itself; Richie threw a few low kicks and jabs. Countering every attack, the culebra tightened his right hook, upper-cutting the creature’s jaw; and it bounced off his knuckles to the floor. 

Smirking, Richie proudly pinned down green-armband’s chest with his foot; clutching its head into his palms. Fingers clawing into flesh the culebra roared ferociously, ripping the thing’s head off its spine. Gore and viscera splashing his face and white shirt. Terrific. As if his suit didn’t need another reason to be dry-cleaned.

Dropping it into a puddle of blood next to the immobile body, Richie derisively turned to his mortal brother brawling with the other two assailants. 

“I don’t know what they are, but at least now we know how to kill them.”

Seth shook his head agitatedly.

“Great, ya wanna give me a hand over here Van Dame?”

Rolling his eyes the culebra sauntered forward removing his glasses and putting them in his breast pocket; morphing into his full reptilian beast guise. Seth cringed whenever Richie did that. But in this case he wasn’t complaining; trying his best to dodge fists and boots in the process. But it was so murky and dark; and he couldn’t move as quickly getting kicked to the floor.  
Armed with his talons, Richie charged at the men in black, slashing their throats in a double swipe. Severed heads and lifeless bodies plopped to his feet but one had fallen on top of his mortal sibling.

Bitterly, Seth shoved the headless corpse off him. “You know you could’ve warned me before ya went all Snake-Hulk on em’ ya prick.”

"That would've defeated the whole element of surprise. And at least I saved your ass brother,” Richie snorted, shifting back into his human self; helping his older brother to stand. “I could’ve just let Jaws and his cronies here filet you instead.”

“Whatever, let’s just double-back to the Goonies before more of these assholes show up.”

Stoically, the culebra put his glasses back on. “Lead the way.”

Together they shuffled towards the broken door which had been torn off its hinges due to Richie kicking it open. More smoke flowed in. Seth hid his nose under his shirt collar; noting that breathing in the fumes too much was deadly to him. Richie obviously didn’t have that problem; subtly gloating to himself. But they still needed sharp melee weapons. Scanning the room, Richie couldn’t spot anything useful. No bats or larger knives. And the guns did jack for them. Making a mental note to himself if they survived past tonight he’d be stashing weapons throughout the compound for the future; in case of emergencies like this.

About to leave when two more commandos in black seemingly floated out from under the billowy blankets. Carrying sigs in their arms. Seth and Richie traded impassive expressions, blowing harsh air out their cheeks; preparing to tackle the intruders. It was imminent a tactical maneuver was coming then THWACK! Two blades instantly sliced through the necks of each miscreant.  
And when their decapitated bodies collapsed to the foggy ground, a pair of silhouettes about their height appeared; one taller than the other, stood before the ex-criminal brothers. Smoke fled and the Geckos realized they’d been spared by Sam and Dean Winchester.

“Having fun yet fellas?” Snarked the bravado hunter.

“Oh joy its Tweedledee and Tweedledum,” Seth barbed, nudging his preternatural sibling with his elbow. “I take it you boys have already been acquainted with the Packman squad.”

“What are they?” Richie queried huskily. 

“Vampires.” Sam replied simply.

The culebra sighed; rhinestone blue eyes skyward. 

“Figured that.”

“Awesome but we don’t really have time to school you kids on these bloodsucking asshats,” Dean tossed the Gecko brothers a couple of extra machetes they’d picked up from Sam’s room. “Whatever you think you know about vampires, via Buffy or Twilight, forget it. Garlic, crosses, sunlight don’t do jack. These things don’t sparkle. And they don’t combust into flames when you stake em’ in the chest like your quasi-lizard cousins. Deadman’s blood slows them down but the only sure way to kill a vamp is removing their noggins.”

The ex-criminal brothers exchanged quick looks.

“Ye-ah I think we got that covered Bravado,” Seth grimaced the hunters disparagingly; ushering their attention to the other executed bodies in the bedroom. Sam and Dean glanced at each other completely snowed then looked back at the Geckos. “But ah, just in case we missed a history lesson or two on vampire 101 here, ya mind filling us in on any other pertinent facts we might need to know about these things before we go out there?”

Dean approached Seth with a dark gaze.

“Don’t get any blood in your mouth. If you ingest it you’ll turn.”

“Oh ya, where’s that your source?”

“It happened to me several years back. And let’s just say getting cured was an even bigger bitch.”

Color seemed to drain from Seth’s face in that instant as he swallowed. Squinting Dean could’ve sworn he saw a hint of uneasiness beyond that suave tough-guy act the kid was putting on. The bravado hunter didn’t need to be a rocket scientist to take the hint that Seth detested vampires. Evident to how uncomfortable and guarded he was around Richie sometimes. Quickly the older Gecko brother snapped out of it and resumed his couldn’t-care-less attitude upon hearing background gunshots.

“Alright well if we’re done with the 411 shit, why don’t we get rambling outa here and grab Clarence on the way. Sounds like the good lord’s messengers’ having a grand ol’ time with the rest of Cobra Commander’s buddies.”

Impulsively Seth left Richie’s side and barged through the Winchesters; nearly throwing them off balance. Rude. Sam and Dean fired gloomy looks at the culebra who only shrugged passively in a “he-does-that-all-the-time” manner. Then the three turned and followed after Seth down the murky hall towards the living room where Castiel was fighting another group of drone vamp soldiers. 

Along the way the Gecko brothers noticed the floor was littered with more decapitated corpses. No mercy indeed. Obviously Sam and Dean’s handy work. It was a good thing they were all on the same side otherwise things probably would’ve gotten bloody. As they neared, the culebra narrowed his eyes through the fog towards flashes of bright white light; verifying the angel smiting one vampire after another. But he’d missed some who immediately open fired at the band of brothers as they came sauntering through the threshold. 

Richie and Sam didn’t hesitate to grab their much shorter older siblings, jumping for cover in opposite directions barely missing the bullets which hit the wall; taking refuge behind individual sofas which were being ripped apart. Covering their ears as vases, mirrors, and the flat-screen television sparking electrical currents endured the deadly metallic rain. If they didn’t act fast, the furniture wasn’t going to be the only thing full of holes.

Seth just clenched his jaw; his fingers in his ears. “Jesus Christ, it’s like a fucking War Zone in here!” he shouted over the gunfire; under his brother’s shielding body. “And somebody mind turning on the god damn brights in this place?”

“Tried that already!” Sam called back, hovering over Dean. “They cut the power.”

“CASS!” Dean exclaimed. “We could use your friggin angel juice over here!”

“I’m a little preoccupied right now Dean.” Castiel’s crusty baritone responded heavily as his hand latched onto the skull of another drone; releasing a stunning burst of energy which blasted from its goggles. “In case it’s escaped your understanding, these premises have been severely compromised.”

“Oh ya think?” the bravado hunter scrunching his face; glancing up at the ceiling.

“What about the back-up generators?” Richie all of a sudden suggested. “If one of us can get to them we might be able to turn the fans on; get rid of this smoke.” 

Dean rolled his eyes jeeringly at the culebra. 

“Great, anyone got a coin we can toss?”

“Nah, forget that I gotta a better idea,” Seth demurred glancing over his shoulder. Face condescending. “Richard?”

Out of the corner of his glasses, the culebra could see all eyes were on him. Gaze darting back and forth between his mortal sibling and the hunters. That’s when it dawned on him; what they were subtly hinting. Immediately his vacant expression soured like a kid pouting on Christmas morning. The last thing Richie wanted to do was put his body through anymore assault. Technically he couldn’t die, but the pain those bullets left were unbearable and he’d just got his full strength back.

“No fucking way.” Richie grumbled; shaking his head.

The tattoo suited Gecko’s face drained of patience.

“Excluding Clarence up ahead, you’re the only one out of the four of us who’s got superpowers,” Seth argued. “So why not take advantage of the perks?”

“Because I already told you it hurts like hell dumbass!”

“You can’t die ya little shit.” 

“Doesn’t matter!”

The older Gecko brother sighed. “Richie, we need someone to get to the damn generators.” He slapped the culebra’s chest. “And who better for the job than a bloodsucker. Just pretend you’re Svenson in Walking Tall pt. II and it’ll be a snap.”

“Yah the sequel was better.” Richie nodded; pinching his lips. 

“Good. Now get your scaly ass off the floor and out to that garage.”

The culebra’s expression fell sinister. “Why don’t I just bite you and push you out there instead?”

Seth flashed the machete in Richie’s view.

“Try it and that’ll be the last thing you ever do.”

“Okay, okay guys,” Sam interrupted intermittently; irritating the ex-criminal brothers. “Can we cool it with the screaming matches until after we get the power back on? Or at least until we finish dealing with the Vamp Ops?”

“Sure got any bright ideas for that BFG?” Seth berated impassively; bullets spraying in his and Richie’s direction. “We’re all ears.” 

Dean had seized an opportunity while some drones reloaded their guns to peek around the couch; noticing a random dark figure jump down from the skylight in the kitchen above; crouching to the floor. With how smoky and dark the room was he couldn’t make out who or what had just trespassed but the silhouette was slender and agile as it moved. This individual certainly had catlike reflexes.

“Ah dudes?” his raspier voice carried getting Sam, Seth and Richie’s attention. “I think we got ourselves another party crasher.” 

“What?” Sam looked distorted. 

“Over in the kitchen.”

The bravado hunter pointed his finger, guiding all three pairs of curious eyes around their barricade towards the broken skylight in the ceiling where he’d first seen it. Movement in the background emanated. And on a dime they all distinguished the mysterious stranger Dean had thoroughly detected. Smoke began to clear and right away the proportions were more visible. This person appeared to be feminine in figure; tall, leggy. Fairly toned. Didn’t seem to be with the other operatives either. 

SHEEN! The rouge agent in black pulled out a lethal samurai sword situated behind their shoulders standing close to the island in a half-crouched stance; then charged at the other assailants surrounding the angel using an impressive combination of hand-to-hand and melee techniques. Moving at lightning speed, barely detainable to the naked eye; the Winchesters and the Geckos were left slack-jawed watching this woman mercilessly slice through the commando squad with ease and poise. Whoever this was she certainly wasn’t human; not with that strength. Such power, ferocity and fighting agility could only belong to a preternatural being.

Her motions gradual running through one of the hostiles with her sword, Seth glimpsed her provocative garments; a long black leather coat draped over a blackish green leather skin-tight thong bodysuit with a buckle-strap connecting over the top of her breasts to her throat, black fingerless gloves and matching silver buckled knee-high stiletto-heel boots. The lower half of her face was covered with a black mask; probably to conceal her identity. Around her waist she wore a triple strap holster of artillery running down the sides of her skin exposed thighs; twin glock 37s at each side of the hips, a few pouches of ammunition and sharp throwing knives. Dressed to kill; reminding the older Gecko brother of a fantasy ninja dominatrix. 

“Who the hell is that?” Seth gawked; practically drooling.

Dean shrugged awe-struck. “Not a friggin clue.”

Richie’s ears however twitched listening to the ardent battle cries of the rouge female warrior pressing her attacks. That gravelly voice; he recognized it from somewhere. But who was it? She was fierce and cunning; swinging her sword in between kicks and punches like a swashbuckling heroine in a Tarantino flick. Long raven hair flowing behind her as if it were a shiny black cape. Keeping the vampire drone soldiers distracted while the Winchesters and the Geckos participated in the fight alongside Castiel. 

“Everybody spread out and take em’ down!” Dean ordered the group.

Machetes in hand and Winchester’s hunter knowledge on vamps, Seth and Richie back-to-back began cutting down opponents. Spacing throughout the area. Sam and Dean dodged and shifted away from oncoming hits, at the same time successfully disarming the drone commandos of their rifles; slaying the creatures on the spot. Ten feet from them Castiel found himself conveniently teamed up with the sexy masked woman; fiercely striking down vampire soldiers with their gleaming blades currently stained in blood.

Now that the numbers of the drone commandos were dwindling; Richie could access the generators in the garage.

“I’m gonna go turn the fans on!” he abnegated. “There’s not too many of these guys left, I can get past them.”

But this time Seth was reluctant to let him go; reminded of what happened earlier at City Hall. True he was still livid and miles from patching things up with Richie over the lies however Seth wasn’t in the habit of risking his younger brother’s life; no matter how physically stronger he was. Not this time. Immediately the suave Gecko caught his tall, stunned preternatural sibling by the arm; spinning him around.

“No, you stay here and help Xena and the Scoobies,” Seth instructed. “I’ve got this.”

Richie’s brow cocked up; smirking suspiciously. “Oh really? What was all that shit earlier about me being a super-powered bloodsucker?”

The older Gecko brother threw up his hand disregarding that statement.

“Richard, just for once shut up and do as I say.” Quickly Seth pushed past the dumbfounded culebra; heading for the door to the storage unit. Over his shoulder he barked. “Stay I mean it!”

And he was gone leaving Richie standing there stewing over his brother’s bossiness. Body drooping forward as his hands hung at his sides. What the hell was he a dog? He couldn’t dwell on it too long though as another commando lunged at him from the left; slugging the culebra in the jaw. That did it. Richie fuming inside responded with a series of fast judo counters and chops followed by a swift pretty kick into the wall denting it. Stalking forward with his weapon the culebra finished off the soldier; swiping the blade below the chin and kicked the skull out of sight with no more thought than kicking a soccer ball.

Sam and Dean were attentive fighting their vampire commando adversaries; too busy to realize the masked woman in black was suddenly caught in a tight bear hug. She grunted and yelped kicking her legs under the big beefy creature’s constricting grasp; struggling to get free. Finally she back head-bunted him in the face and he released her. Jerking his arms off her neck the masked woman squatted to the floor retrieving the sword.

With a swift shove under her arm; the blade struck the assailant in the stomach. Rotating to her feet she slid the sword across the abdomen spilling out his intestines. And as he fell to his knees the masked woman yanked out her sword and mercilessly severed the head from his body. Just as she turned towards Richie’s direction, another commando taking cover behind the island fired a clear shot. Crying out in agony, the woman collapsed to the floor grasping her wounded shoulder. 

Glancing upward she spied the culprit getting up from his sniper position, gun in hand approaching her menacingly. Blood pooled out from the gaping hole; sticking her fingers together as she struggled to close it. Pointing the rifle at the masked woman the commando intended to fire point blank only to be thwarted by Castiel’s angel blade; stabbing him through the throat and slicing the fiend’s helmeted head off. As he docilely peered down at the weary woman he offered her his hand. Stalling for a moment before she took it, he helped her to stand.

“Thank you.” She said to the angel in a deep sensual voice.

“We’re far from even.” Castiel told her gruffly; blue eyes absent as he lifted two fingers towards her forehead attempting to heal her. Instinctively she slapped his hand away fearful he’d remove the mask. “You’ve been hurt. I only want to help you.” He assured her softening his tone. 

This time she didn’t resist and he resumed the healing process. But as the angel touched her temple he realized this woman wasn’t what she appeared to be. She wasn’t even human. In fact she was of the same species as Richie Gecko. But unlike him her aura gave off a much darker vibe. Sensing she’d done some heinous things in a long bleak history of carnage. Removing his hand the masked woman glanced at him incredulously.

“What did you do to me?” she inquired rolling her shoulders; astonished the pain had vanished.

But the angel was dismissive of the woman’s query.

“You’re a culebra…like Richard. Who are you?” Castiel dourly assessed; gazing at her solemnly as he tilted his head. “I don’t know what your intentions are or what you’re doing here but I’ve perceived an alarming aura around you. Yet…you’re helping us…why?”

The masked woman’s black eyes morphed into yellowish-green reptilian irises holding up her sword; putting distance between herself and the angel. Surveying Castiel with a threatening glare. Instead of giving him a straight answer she replied him vaguely. 

“I’m not your enemy.”

Huh? That wasn’t much of a response. And he was already suspicious of her. About to press the masked woman for further information when suddenly got sidetracked by the fight taking place. Splitting off from one another, they engaged their foes. 

While Castiel was smiting more vamp drones; he occasionally stole glances at the mysterious female warrior. Another commando had her in his sights, darting at her like a brakeless semi-truck. This time she anticipated the maneuver. As though springs were attached to the bottoms of her feet; the masked woman gracefully leapt into the air back-flipping like an Olympic gymnast. Landing into a deep crouch on the backside of her opponent, standing upright she swung her weapon loping off its head which rolled away.

“Impressive.” the inscrutable angel muttered to himself.

Further down from her closest to the couches, Sam and Dean were assiduously brawling and chopping through drone commandos with their weapons. Conveniently the taller hunter used his long legs to kick back their opponents before his bravado brother dished out the final blow. They’d done this for years, practically experts in vampire slaying by now. However there were touch and go moments where both of them had nearly gotten careless as these drones were exceptionally faster and stronger. And the Winchesters had the tendency to underestimate the threat.

All of a sudden there was a loud whirring noise echoing throughout the compound; startling Richie, Castiel and the hunters. And the emergency lights flickered to life. A cool draft of air set in; dissipating the smoke into transparency. Everything became more clear and the atmosphere breathable. No longer could these commandos camouflage themselves in the fog. Seth must’ve successfully turned on the fans when he accessed the generators in the storage unit. The Winchesters traded relieved nods. But their contentment was short lived by the red beam Sam zeroed in on, aiming at his brother’s chest. He hadn’t realized they’d drifted far from each other during the fight either. 

Panic-stricken the taller hunter broke into a dash. “DEAN, GET DOWN!” 

“What?” Dean’s green eyes then trailed below to the thin red arrow of light shining on his shirt. “Oh crap!”

But Sam was too late. Dean didn’t have time to react as a thunderous eruption escaped the barrel of the rifle. However neither of the Winchesters anticipated Richie in that moment, spontaneously leaping in front of the shot and pushing the bravado hunter down to the floor; shielding him with his massive frame. Resulting in the culebra letting out an agonized groan as a sharp pain struck him in the back. He’d felt the bullet pierce his flesh. Richie was hit but not dead. And thankfully neither was Dean. Yet the glasses and suited Gecko was far from thrilled for once again putting his body through hell just to save someone.

At the same time the masked woman in black provocative attire sprinted at the sniper; knocking the gun out of his grasp and spin kicking him in the gut sending him straight into the dining room set; smashing it to pieces. As he was slowly struggling to stand, she stabbed the commando through the heart before beheading him on the spot. Standing over the mutilated corpse victoriously her eyes observed the surrounding chaos; realizing he was the last of the drones. 

Meanwhile Seth had just walked in, anxiously running his fingers through his dark hair when he noticed Richie lying on the ground covering the bravado hunter with his body.

“Richard?!” Seth hurried to his brother; clumsily traipsing over bodies. 

“Ahh! I’m okay,” bellowed the culebra grouchily; removing himself from Dean. Fingers sprawled on the pooling red stain in front of his chest. As he poked at the hole in the shirt fabric Richie saw the bullet had exited out the other side. Well at least that was one less headache. “I think I’m gonna need a new suit though.”

Dean sat up, staring at the culebra confoundedly. Mind racing. Two seconds ago he would’ve been on the verge of meeting Billie on the other side. He really should’ve scolded Richie for his recklessness, especially after giving the guy blood receiving little to no gratitude in return. Instead he was…aphonic; didn’t even notice that Sam and Castiel were calling his name.

“Dean?” the angel asked vigilantly as an afflicted Sam helped his brother off the hardwood. “Dean, are you alright?”

The hunter whipped his head away from Richie, facing the angel and his taller brother; sticking his thumb up. 

“I’m cool Cass; sore but nothing a little beer and more sleep won’t cure.” Then he heralded Castiel’s consideration to Richie sitting on the floor holding his wound. “But you might wanna McDreamy lizard boy here. He took a bullet for me which he said he’d never do.”

Richie winced in pain, struggling to hold his poker-face. “AH! Bite me old man. You should be thanking me not bitching about my motives.”

“It was stupid and you know it.”

“Yah gotta agree with Bravado on this one,” Seth grumpily acquiesced, slapping Richie’s shoulder causing him to grunt. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed AGAIN Richard.”

The culebra rolled his nonchalant blue eyes. 

“Well he’s alive isn’t he? Besides I’m more durable than all three of you put together. And I don’t need healing when I can already regenerate.”

Dean’s cheeks throbbed mordantly and Seth shook his head as Castiel bent forward to the reluctant Richie’s eye level; pressing two fingers against his forehead. After the process was finished the docile angel withdrew his hand, allowing the older Gecko brother to assist his preternatural sibling.

“Feeling better?” Castiel asked vacantly; straightening up.

Richie let out an exasperated huff but nodded and dryly replied. “Yah…peachy.”

Sam bit his lower lip, swallowing unnecessarily staring at his brother; emotions swirling around. 

“Dean when I saw that beam on your chest…I thought for sure that”-

-“I know.” He finished gravely; gazing dour at Sam. “Me too.”

They went silent. And for a split second Seth and Richie assumed the two hunters were going to hug it out; like they’d done back at the motel. In fact Dean had the inkling to reach out to Sam. But instead, the taller Winchester discreetly cleared his throat and backpedaled slightly from the bravado; who had awkwardly pretended to scratch behind his head. Brotherly angst that practically mirrored the Geckos. This didn’t look good. 

So Dean whirled around to Richie standing beside a cross-armed Seth. 

“Hey ah…thanks kid.” The hunter gave the culebra’s shoulder a friendly fist bump. “What you did was reckless, not to mention moronic…but you’re right. I am alive and kickin’…and I probably wouldn’t be if you hadn’t jumped in there when you did. So…thank you.”

Richie’s brows puckered. He didn’t know what to say. Should he jeer? No one had ever shown him sincere gratitude like this. Not even Seth. And this was usually the part where the culebra expected some form of antagonistic criticism. Maybe Dean was feeling a little sentimental for giving blood earlier or maybe…they were actually starting to find some common ground. Richie would’ve been dead himself back at City Hall if the hunter hadn’t come through for him. And because of that quick fix he actually got an in-depth view at who Dean Winchester really was. So for that Richie traded mockery for civility.

“You’re welcome.” He mumbled in a composed tone.

Perplexed by this response the bravado hunter’s brows snapped together. Was this kid actually being genuine with him? They’d spent most of their time fighting with each other since they met than getting along. Perhaps he’d misjudged these young Geckos. As the subtle moment quietly passed between the two men, Dean rotated to his demon knife lying undisturbed by the smashed up coffee table; and shuffled over to pick it up.

“Okay, I think I speak for everyone here when I say what the hell was with the vampire SWAT team just now?” the bravado hunter barbed, facing back to the group; wearing an anguished expression. “Mean how the hell did hoodoo Yosemite Sam even find us?”

Sam leaned his arm against the nearest wall, legs crossed.

“Willet must’ve had our cars followed after we left City Hall. It’s the only explanation.” he theorized; then jerked his head towards his brother. “Dean this was a carefully orchestrated assault. First the bombing and now this; it’s not a coincidence that he wants us dead. We’re too close to this thing now.”

“No…I don’t think it’s that simple Sam,” Castiel abnegated hollowly; crouching down before one of the vamp drone bodies. Lapses blue eyes scanning the tactical gear. “Willet had his chance to kill us back at City Hall but he allowed me to save Dean and Richard. This was not an assassination attempt…this was a retrieval mission.” The statuesque angel stood up and faced the group of brothers. “These aberrations came here for something…or rather someone.”

Sam furrowed his brows. “Who?”

“Them.” Castiel’s cautious eyes narrowed on the Gecko brothers; whose faces squinted dismayed.

Seth opened his mouth ready to speak his mind when Dean cut him off. Apparently he’d just remembered there was another person standing in the room with them; impatiently waiting to be acknowledged. The masked woman who’d voluntarily assisted them in the fight. 

“Hey hold that thought fellas,” Dean jibed; jerking his jaw at the female infiltrator clad in sexy wear. “Isn’t anyone gonna bother mentioning the other elephant in the room? Err Ninja Barbie?” 

Simultaneously Sam, Castiel and the Geckos spun around; addressing their concerns on the masked woman placidly approaching them. Pausing only a few inches away, she flicked her sword; shoving it back into the sleeve behind her long midnight black trench coat.

“Yah been wondering that myself.” Seth concurred; ogling the mysterious feme fatal.

Sam’s facial expression contorted in bewilderment. “Think she’s one of Willet’s drones or spies?”

“No, but she is the same species as Richard,” Castiel affirmed. “She’s a culebra. I saw it when I helped her. And she was also fighting those drones with us so I would hardly assume she is an emissary.”

Richie released a loud huff; chewing the inside of his cheek.

“You can all stop guessing,” he scoffed, staring at the woman icily. “I already know who you are. So you may as well take off the mask.” 

Imminently the woman tugged down the black spandex mouth cover with her fingerless gloved hands; receiving flabbergasted reactions from the Winchesters and weary glares from the Geckos. A demon with an angelic face. She was a ravishing young Latino beauty approximately early to mid-twenties; full red voluptuous lips, golden tanned skin like the sunlight and deep-set black eyes that could suck a person’s soul into the oblivion. Dean had to practically unscrew his jaw gawking incessantly at the beautiful woman sweeping her fingers through her long raven hair; uncertain if she was even real or a Playboy figment of his imagination. 

“Hello Richard…Seth…” she intonated furtively at the Gecko brothers.  
________________________________________

“Well, well as I fucking live and breathe,” Seth snorted grimly. “It’s Santanico Pandemonium.”

“Kisa.” Richie corrected; elbowing his mortal sibling’s shoulder.

“Wait, you two know this Black Canary?” Dean grilled; firing leery looks between the deadly senorita and the brothers in suits. 

She acerbically motioned her head. “Very eloquently; you could say we go…way back.” 

Seth didn’t take his eyes off her; glowering with more irate than a tank full of boiling acid.

“Yah, she’s Richie’s ex-snake princess before marital bliss got dull. Bitch is the whole reason we’re even in this shit to begin with. Up until recently she was an ally; then her scaly highness skipped town on us while we were all throwing down with the queen of Hell. Trust me boys she’s a lost cause.”

Sam fired a flummoxed look at Richie. “Hold on a second, she was your girlfriend too?"

“Not anymore,” the vampire bristled, gnashing his teeth. “She turned me over a year ago, after I started seeing things in my head; making me her lackey. Forced me to hurt innocent people so I could find her; messed with my mind until I couldn’t tell the difference between what was real and what wasn’t. And it was downhill from there.” 

Castiel stonily glanced at Richie. “So this woman sired you.” 

The culebra mechanically bobbed his head; tightening his jaw.

“What the hell are you doing here Kisa?”

“It’s Santanico…now,” She responded jutting out her chin. “And I came to Albuquerque because I was looking for both of you.” She loftily eyed the Winchesters and Castiel. “But I wasn’t expecting you to have…company.”

“Okay, ah why are you here?” Seth demanded.

“I came back to help you.” 

Synchronously the Gecko brothers’ jowls unfurled; like they couldn’t believe their ears. What nerve. This from the same woman who’d screwed them both over in more ways than one; who nearly destroyed their relationship? It was almost morbidly poetic that the boys couldn’t contain guffawing blithely at each other. Ever since Richie had those visions of Santanico at Benny’s Gas pump it had been a one-way rollercoaster into an endless nightmare. Their association with the culebra woman had led to the deaths of many and countless lives torn apart; including the Fuller family. 

Knowing Santanico brought the ex-criminal brothers nothing but pain. They’d trusted her even against their better judgement. She promised Richie the world if he set her free. While they were together for three months, running around doing business dealings, she’d never expressed any shred of guilt or remorse for the things she had done to him. Not once. In fact from what he could remember their entire union was a train-wreck to start with; physically, emotionally and psychologically toxic. Instead of regarding Richie as her equal whether their relationship was personal or business; she treated him like a child. Worse than anything Seth ever did. And shortly after defeating Malvado, Richie and Santanico ended their affair.

When lord Venganza recruited the Geckos to be her soldiers in the war against Amaru, they’d sought out Santanico’s aid. But in a fit of grief over losing her human lover Manola, she turned her back on them. Eventually she did return bringing along Kate Fuller’s reassembled killer Carlos Madrigal much to the bane of Scott Fuller and Richie. It was hard being in the same room with the guy let alone working with him. So when the Geckos and their team of warriors took the fight to a local ghost town of Matanzas where Amaru and Brasa were waiting; Santanico spilt with Carlos and disappeared without an explanation. She didn’t even return Seth’s calls or messages after Richie was imprisoned within Xibalba. Something he resented ever since; unable to get passed without railing himself up.

“Wow, that’s rich coming from the backstabbing broad who left us out there to die in that damn desert.” Seth castigated; narrowing his abrasive dark eyes at Santanico. “What happened, misplaced our number sweetheart?”

“I know it’s been a while Seth.” The female culebra’s face was indecipherable.

“Try five months.”

Santanico intensely strutted towards the suave Gecko brother; eyes intimidatingly wild like a lioness on the prowl. 

“Well a lot happened during those five months. I’m not the same person you knew... I’ve changed.” 

“Oh is that so?”

“Yes!”

But Seth wasn’t buying it. “Nice try Amidala; that shit don’t work on this Gecko. Not anymore.” His voice was rising as he motioned his hands, creating invisible circles in front of her. “See you might’ve convinced yourself that you’re this…whole new different person but from where I’m standing…you’re still the same conniving, bloodthirsty skank who lured us out to that damn House of Horrors in Mexico.”

Santanico’s eyes were blazing.

Sam and Dean exchanged awkward glances from each other to the disputing pair; licking their lips. Oh boy! This was beginning to sound more like a scorned lovers spat than a bittersweet reunion between old friends. And going by Seth and Richie’s heated facial exteriors toward Santanico they were looking ready to kill. 

“Alright cut the song and dance love birds,” Dean disparaged; pinching the bridge of his nose as he stepped between the two young men and the exceedingly attractive woman. “We vaguely know why Dinah Lance is here now how the hell did she find us? She have like what, culebra sonar or something?”

Santanico’s make-up face twisted appallingly at Dean; digging inside one of her trench coat pockets and fishing out her cell phone. 

“No. Richard installed high-tech GPSs on all our cellular devices before we left for Rio Sangre prison. That’s how I found you here.”

At this Richie was suddenly besieged with circumspect expressions. Seth’s was borderline malignant. If he wasn’t still addled over the vampire’s dishonestly earlier, he was probably seeing red now.

“You bugged our god damn phones?”

“It’s not what it looks like Seth. I did it in case the mission went to shit. You were flying blind into a culebra death trap with the son of a bitch who murdered Kate. I wasn’t gonna take any chances in case he tried to set us up,” Richie divulged composedly. “How the hell was I to know she was gonna use it to track us down later?” 

Seth began contentiously massaging both sides of his temple. “It just never stops with you, does it Richard.”

“Oh would you go screw yourself, brother! Don’t act like you weren’t keeping secrets from me!” An arguable look swept across Seth’s complexion as Richie’s annoyed scowl burned through him. “Yah, I know all about your little backup scheme to kill Kate in Matanzas if we couldn’t save her.”

“What? How did you”-

-“Let’s just say you have your way and I have mine.” 

Discreetly during the Geckos bickering Sam turned to Dean.

“You think Willet’s drones might’ve intercepted the signal on the Geckos’ GPSs too?”

“It’s possible,” Dean muttered; bobbing his head. “Which means staying here is no longer an option. Not if he’s after the Ringling brothers.” The Winchesters analyzed the sea of headless corpses; broken furniture, shattered glass, blood and bullet holes decorating the walls and hardwood floors. “Definitely not in a place that looks like the Texas Chainsaw Massacre.” 

“And we’re going to need more able bodies as this apocalypse spreads,” Castiel interjected at the hunters; mildly gazing Santanico’s way. “Willet is building an army and its multiplying by the second. We could use another warrior of Santanico’s calibers. When I touched her I sensed an incalculable ancient power amongst a bleak distorted history; she’s plausibly one of the oldest and strongest of her kind.”

“I don’t know Cass,” Dean was skeptical; checking out the dark haired culebra woman. “Mean she’s Selma Hayek hot I’ll give ya that but she’s still a monster and we barely know this chic. Plus it sounds like our lizard boys ain’t lining up to make her friendship bracelets any time soon.” 

The taller Winchester nodded; attributing back to the doe-eyed angel.

“Dean’s right,” Sam added assertively. “How can we trust her, if we don’t even know her angle? Seth and Richie don’t seem to think we can.”

A light bulb went off in Castiel’s mind when asked this and he calmly trundled towards the Geckos and the culebra woman; impelling his head. She sensuously blinked switching her gaze; acknowledging him.

“You said you came here to help Seth and Richard,” he promulgated; absent of emotion. “What do you know about what we’re up against?”

“And you can start by telling us where you’ve been all this time.” Richie scolded Santanico; hands on his hips

“Yah and what’s with the quasi-BDM ninja look?” Seth deadpanned; gesticulating. “Been watching too much Eyes Wide Shut recently?”

A bitter straight line ran across Santanico’s forehead; grimacing at the three men before rotating directions and ambled towards the island. Hips rolling and undulated while the coattails of her trench swished behind her; Sam and Dean’s ogling eyes following not far along. Parking before the elevated flat surface, she spun around and leaned against the edge using her hands for support; letting out a harsh breath.

“I was in Idaho,” Santanico enumerated; her gravelly voice deepening while she slipped into her thoughts. “Before that…in Matanzas when we split up, I did go with Carlos to free Amaru’s culebra slaves. But when we found them, he double crossed me; tried to kill me and left me for dead.”

Seth immediately had a ‘Eureka’ moment interrupting Santanico; almost jumping out of his skin clapping his hands together. Receiving baffled looks from his brother, Castiel and the Winchesters.

“See I knew it!” he clipped excitably. “I knew that cheese-dick Carlitos was a lying piece of shit.” Glancing over his shoulder at Richie; playfully slapping his chest. “Did I not call that one or what buddy?” 

Richie backpedaled, scrutinizing his mortal sibling. “You didn’t, I called it. Now are you gonna shut up and let her talk?”

Sam and Dean snickered amongst themselves as the giddiness fled Seth’s face giving way for a pouty ‘ruin-my-fun’ expression; folding his arms as if he were on a time-out. Richie just shook his head then the culebra woman resumed her monologue.

“Just before Carlos disappeared with the prisoners, he told me he had an alliance with some rinche…Gary Willet. That’s when I passed out.” The very mention of his name sparked an interior insolent rage within all five men. So Carlos was secretly working with the Xibalban necromancer the entire time? Of all their suspicious Seth and Richie never could’ve predicted that outcome. “When I woke up my phone was dead, I was malnourished and miles from Matanzas…so I hitched my way to Idaho to visit Manola’s gravesite; feeding off bikers and the homeless along the way. I guess I was just…looking for another escape.”

As the Winchesters intensely processed the information given, they grappled with whether or not they wanted to align themselves with another monster. They already had their hands full with the Geckos. Seth and Richie however concurrently crinkled their foreheads lethargically at Santanico. But it was Seth who vocalized his criticisms.

“Ah sowing your oats while munching down on the locals in your spare time,” Seth sneered cynically; fake applauding. “Well apparently that’s gotta be more important than notifying us about Carlitos or stopping the world from going to Hell; but whatever.” Santanico just stared at him cholerically; churlish of the older Gecko brother’s mockery. “Princess, nothing about any of this tells me what I don’t already know about you or what gutter you crawled out of. So why don’t ya stop jerking our chains.”

Lip snarling, Santanico scooted off the countertop; stalking towards Seth invading his space. Hissing at him in disgust. Right then Richie’s arm shot up protectively in front of his brother; mutely glowering at the culebra woman to back off just as Sam and Dean had moved in closer. 

“Hey whoa, back off She-Ra!” Dean clamored; shoving her backwards with the demon knife in hand. “I don’t wanna have to gank you but I will if you press your luck.”  
She only glared at Richie and the hunters shaking her head before focusing her diligence back to Seth. If she was to gain their trust then she had to play by their rules. Still the frustration of the Gecko brothers’ resistance to her seemed to be striking a nerve.

“Are you ever gonna stop running off that mouth and let me explain myself,” Santanico snapped. “Or do I have to staple it shut?”

“Fine,” Sighing, Seth raised his hands irreverently rolling his eyes. “Floor’s all yours doll-face.”

Indignant, Santanico’s attractive complexion eased into an icy fortitude taking in a deep breath then exhaled; resuming back to her story as she clicked her boots along the hard floor.

“I was messed up; bitter over Carlos’s treachery and unable to face myself or anyone from my past. But while I was in Idaho…I met a man there, Aapo, an ancient warrior and leader of the Serpiente ninjutsu clan…”

“Ser-pi-what-da?” Dean stammered awkwardly; tongue tied.

“Serpiente.” Richie imparted at the hunter caustically; using the accurate accent to phrase each syllable. “It’s Spanish for ‘serpents’.”

“Yes,” Santanico accredited the suit and glasses Gecko. “They’re a secret organization of culebras who peacefully co-exist and protect humans in exchange for blood donations.”

Sam’s brow snapped up. “Blood donations?”  
The sexy Latino woman assented at the tall shaggy hunter.

“The Serpiente abide by of rule of not killing civilians to feed on souls,” she articulated solemnly; capturing the curiosity of all five men. “Humans willingly come to the dojo to donate blood and in return maintain the alliance between the two worlds. It’s a lifelong pact.”

“Sort of like the bond you had with Manola, huh?” Richie prodded; forehead creasing.

“More or less yes,” Santanico dodged inscrutably; facing away from the group. “For the longest time…I didn’t know who I was. When Malvado turned me, made me his slave…all I could think about was vengeance. But even after killing him, regaining my freedom and my former name…Kisa…I thought it would make me whole again…it didn’t. And I’ve tried to fill that void ever since.” She paused, shutting her glistening eyes to hold back tears; spinning around to Castiel and the band of brothers. “Living under Aapo’s tutelage and guidance for five months, he taught me more than five centuries worth as the nine lords’ property. I forged a new path for myself not just as Queen but as agente deshonesto of justice and retribution.”

Seth blinked owlishly looking lost. “A what?”

“She’s a vigilante now.” Richie uttered leaning into Seth’s ear; who in turn threw Santanico a skeptical expression. 

“Oh really? Trading in the crown for a flashy cape and tights are we Miss Universe,” the older Gecko brother deadpanned scanning over the seductively leather clad Santanico. “Being Queen of the snake pit suddenly not doing it for you these days?” 

Santanico snubbed Seth’s insensitive cracks. “I don’t expect you to understand my reasoning. Just know that I’m being sincere.” But he began to unconsciously chuckle snidely; slapping Richie’s shoulder. Castiel and the Winchesters’ faces were perturbed while the culebra woman grimaced at Seth. “You don’t believe me.”

“Ding, ding, ding; we have a winner.” he abnegated; sobering up in an instant.

“Why not?”

“Because none of that code of conduct shit has ever applied to you before, sweet-cheeks? Certainly not during your ritual dance of bloodbath at the Twister; not back at Montanez when you bailed on us. Not when you didn’t return my calls about Richie. Why the fuck do you suddenly care so much about justice or helping anyone?”

Santanico went silent biting her lower lip; then her eyes were melancholic.

“Maybe I want to atone for all that I’ve done Seth…just as you do.” She proclaimed torridly at the mystified but cynical tattoo suited Gecko. “Make amends for all the lives I’ve destroyed and the people I’ve hurt. People like Manola…you and Richard… That’s why I came back… When I learned what was happening in Albuquerque…I knew I had to tell you the truth…”

“The truth about what?” Castiel stolidly catechized; gimleting his eyes at Santanico.

“That I know whom los hermanos Gecko really are…and about the prophecy… ” Her steely face fell in contempt then she peered at the bemused Gecko brothers. “Carlos warned the ascension was coming…and that Seth and Richard had a part in it. But it was Aapo who convinced me I had to return and aid them in the fight.”

Sam narrowed eyes wistfully at the beautiful culebra woman, leaning his head sideways; pressing lips together. 

“Did you already know about Willet’s affiliation with The Circle?”

“Circulo Mortis…yes… They’re necromancers Amaru banished from Xibalba centuries ago who vowed to take back their dimension.”

Richie’s impassioned exterior jolted into a mixture of unsteady emotions; gaping at Santanico. He was absolutely livid he’d been wandering without this knowledge; feeling imbecilic. Seth rolled his eyes face-palming like he dreaded the quarrel ahead.

“Wait, you not only knew what was going on but you knew about the prophecy too?” he scoffed.

Santanico nodded stolidly. “Yes…so did Carlos…and the nine lords…”

”Jesus,” Seth cursed under his breath; running his hands down his stubble face. “I think my head’s gonna fucking explode.”

Dean detected a hint of resentment in Richie’s voice when he said this. “So you knew…you knew all this time we were together…and you never said a damn word? You were trying to control me.” 

“I was different back then Richard…” Santanico noted the young culebra’s sullen glare; voice surging with empathy when she spoke. “I had no regard for anyone but myself. The only thing I cared about was vengeance and my freedom. And it didn’t matter who I had to step on or use to achieve those goals.”

“Then why the hell should we trust anything you have to say now?”

She shook her head; hair and dangled earrings swaying around the nap of her neck.

“I’m done answering questions for a while,” Santanico icily dismissed Richie; who was less than forgiving. “Now I want my answers; starting with your new gringo friends.”

Sam and Castiel frowned at the culebra woman’s derogatory remark; turning to Dean for mutual support. Not beating around the bush, the bravado hunter jumped in with an apathetic quirk; holding his hand out to Santanico for a pretend shake gesture.

“Hi I’m Dean Winchester,” He pointed at the taller long-haired man next to him and their friend in the beige trench coat. “This happy camper to my right is my brother Sam and our buddy Castiel; he’s an angel. Long story short, we’re hunters.”

Santanico’s brown eyes squinted. “Hunters?”

“As in we hunt monsters and other supernatural evil.” Sam retorted petulantly appraising the bravado hunter. “Guess we’re gonna have to catch her up on everything.” Then then he gazed broodingly at Richie who nodded back. “Not to mention someone’s gotta elaborate further on this prophecy.”

The beautiful culebra woman folded her arms; deep voice emotionless. 

“I can’t wait to hear it.” She deadpanned.

Over the next hour or so the Winchesters, the Geckos and Castiel began filling Santanico in on the details of how they’d run into each other; the warehouse, Maximillian Cross, the abduction of the Fullers and Mary’s capture. The apocalypse and what they knew so far of Willet’s accession. During the discourse Richie finally came clean about what happened with Cross; repeating all that he’d learned about the prophecy from the corpse. Of course this revelation only served to push Seth further over the edge; the very thing Richie feared. 

“Okay now I really need a drink.” The older Gecko brother jeered; retreating to the fridge for an alcoholic beverage. 

Castiel ignored the abrasive young man and went back to addressing the current dialogue.

“So as you can see if we don’t prevent Willet from administering the last remaining components for Xibalba’s ascension,” the angel composed intellectually to Santanico and the other observant occupants; pacing the floor. “It will be Hell on earth. Unfortunately we aren’t aware of neither what nor who all the ingredients are. Nor do we know how many he’s already administered. We do know Kate and Mary somehow play an imperative role in the spell which prompts me to assume there’s a connection.” The angel rotated to the Gecko brothers; rubbernecking. “And tonight Willet came for Seth and Richard.”

“Yah Cass’s right,” Sam bobbed his head; pensively shoving his hands into his coat pockets. “There’s gotta be a specific pattern between all the ingredients. And I would be researching this by now if Vamp Ops hadn’t jacked up my laptop.”

Dean at once chimed in.

“Well when Dirty Harry took mom back at the cometary; he called her ‘the wandering soul’,” he rumbled impudently going into detective mode. “And before that he nabbed lizard boy’s girlfriend because she was previously some demon’s bitch. And then that crazy costume jewelry.”

Richie resented that second last sentence for various reasons; watching his mortal sibling trot back to the group chugging down one of Dean’s beers. All of a sudden his brain snapped into gear and he could see the pieces clearly in his mind. There was a pattern and it wasn’t until discussing the prophecy involving him and Seth that the cobwebs fell away.

“It’s life and death.” Richie muttered nonchalantly out load. Then all eyes were on him and he twitched with a well-duh expression which they failed to grasp. Even Sam was unusually stupefied. Okay I guess I gotta spell it out for them, thought the vampire. “That’s the pattern; all the elements of the spell have something to do with death coming to life.” 

The Winchesters threw each other neutral looks.

“Ah no offense kid I’m sure you’re a regular Brainiac,” Dean gibed, massaging the back of his neck. “But that theory might be a little hard to swallow considering almost everyone in this room has bit the dust, went to hell and was brought back by some mystical force. Mean, why isn’t Coco Bill throwing us all in the friggin stew pot?”

But Richie remained stubborn in his assessment. “I don’t know maybe there’s a reason these specific ingredients are chosen; like certain spices. First Amaru’s necklace the heart of Xibalba; worn by the queen who was purged by the nine lords and her remains put into the blood well. She was resurrected. Cross was a Xibalban necromancer I killed whom Willet resurrected to be his smelly Igor. Blondie was murdered by a Prince of Hell and restored three decades later by the Darkness.” 

“And Carlos took Amaru’s culebra slaves in Montanez,” Santanico added logically. “Willet must have a purpose in mind for them as well.” 

Richie acceded at the beautiful culebra woman, enthusiastically circling the group stroking his chin; mimicking Atlas. 

“Yes. Then I died over a year ago and was reborn as a culebra. At the Marigold festival, grandpa Rawhide and four others blessed consecrated ground with their blood; opening the vortex between the living and the dead. And Kate… she was brought back through the blood well and possessed by Amaru; murdered by Humpty Dumpty who just so happens to be working for our buccaneer. The pattern is Xibalban.”

“Okay but what about Seth?” Sam contradicted clenching his jaw; dissecting Richie’s assessment. “He’s the only one outside the six of us who hasn’t met the Reaper, am I right? He doesn’t exactly fit the connection. So what does Willet want with him?”

Santanico imminently had cognition.

“It must have something to do with Seth and Richard’s involvement in the ancient prophecy,” she intonated; suspense entwined within her gravelly tone. Seth just smacked a palm to his face; not this prophecy talk again. “I know the story of two brothers depicted in the Popol Vuh…but I don’t remember all that was written. Just the cliff notes. If we had our hands on that book, we’d have our answers.”

Sedately, Castiel tilted his head; staring out into space. 

“Come to think of it that does explain the antediluvian Mesoamerican language I absorbed from these young men when I healed them,” he attested docilely; lapses blue doe-eyes darting between the Geckos and Santanico. “I must’ve been receiving Mayan iconography from this Popol Vuh.” 

Seth and Richie wrinkled their noses while Dean scrunched up his face like he’d just heard something dirty. “Poo-poo-what? Dude it’s too early to start grossing me out.”

The attractive culebra woman shot the bravado hunter an aggravated expression. 

“No! The Popol Vuh. The Mayan bible. It chronicles everything about the brothers’ destiny. But the original manuscript hasn’t been seen for centuries.”

“So what happened to it?” Sam impugned; brows knitting.

Santanico shrugged. “No one knows. Not even the lords ever found it.”

“Can’t we just…surf the net and read the book online?” Dean pressed straight-faced.

Santanico frowned at the bravado hunter; shaking her head. “If it were that simple don’t you think the internet would’ve been my first suggestion? All you’ll find there are fractured versions of the Mayan bible. Useless to us. We need the actual manuscript; that which contains the source of all Mesoamerican prophecies and lore.”

Seth in the meantime felt like his last shred of sanity was slipping; finishing the bottle of beer. Obsessively ambling back and forth across the hardwood floor; hand over his mouth while his brown eyes wandered to the slain bodies in the living room. He’d struggled for over a year to hold onto something normal. He needed normal; not this daily Freak Show. Dealing with Richie and the supernatural was one thing but learning fate had an ulterior plan for him and his brother was a whole other pill to quaff. This was the last thing he ever wanted to hear from Richie; in fact he almost wished he’d remained in the dark. 

“Alright enough about this prophecy bullshit!” he barked; pressing his palm against his forehead. “We need to start worrying about how the fuck we get our people back and how the hell we’re supposed to ice this good ol’ rinche. Not worrying about some damn storybook that hasn’t been seen for over many millenniums.”  
Dean gesticulated cringing at the older Gecko brother’s use of profanity. Yet found himself reluctantly agreeing with him.

“Much as I wanna wash his mouth out, Tattoo Boy’s gotta point,” Acquiesced the bravado hunter; earning a quick scowl from Seth. “We’re in way over our heads and soaking neck deep in the apocalypse. There ain’t no friggin time to brush up on any light reading. We have to leave this place before the Demolition Men come looking for a rematch. And we’re gonna need some serious backup, man.”

Richie’s brow intriguingly snapped up. “So what are you suggesting we do?”

“We’re going Ocean’s Eleven on this; recruit extra hands.” Seth finished crossing his arms; peering at Dean who seemed to be on his wave link. “And I know just the guy with a particular skillset…our friendly neighborhood Peacekeeper; ranger Gonzalez.”

“I thought you said he was done helping us.” The suit and glasses Gecko indicated cheekily.

Self-assured, the older Gecko brother kneaded his preternatural sibling’s shoulder. “Semantics Richard; we’ll convince him if we have to.”

Dean assented affably; rubbing his hands together. “Awesome, I’m gonna give Garth a shout too. He was the one who gave us this case and his werewolf mojo might be handy to have in a zombie swarm.”

Santanico and the Gecko brothers’ faces were ecstatically abstruseness; jaws unscrewed puckering their brows at the Winchesters.

“You guys hang out with werewolves too?” Seth blurted aporetically at the hunters; who bobbled their heads grinning lopsidedly. “Christ, it’s like Abbot and Costello around here.”

But Sam was less than enthusiastic and more cynical; forehead crinkling at his brother. 

“I don’t know Dean. Do you really think Garth is ready for this? He’s not exactly…I mean he’s…” the taller hunter trailed off unable to think of a less demeaning phrase; instead retracting his last thought. “We could always call Jodie?”

“Jodie’s already on a case and we don’t know anyone else,” Dean rebutted. “Look I know Garth is…well Garth but he’s still a hunter Sam. And we’re gonna need all the muscle we can get in this bitch…even if it’s well under 115 lbs.”

“What about new accommodations?” Santanico prompted ardently; browsing the chaotic living room and kitchen. Painted-black fingernails digging at a bullet hole in the wall. “I trust you boys already have that sorted.”

Quickly an idea spurned on Sam; one he knew Dean wouldn’t be too crazy about for discernible reasons. Still it was probably their safest bet. And thinking back to their grandfather’s letter Mary had brought the other day; they now had a logical awareness for being there.

“We could go to the Men of Letters bunker.” The taller hunter imputed noticing Dean’s apprehensive reaction; digging into his cargo jacket pocket and revealing Henry Winchester’s letter. “It’s safe and secure. And it’d be like killing two birds with one stone. Whatever this is, maybe it could help us.”

“Come on Sam it could be a doorstop for all we know.”

“Mom gave her life for us Dean,” Sam’s voice was frigidly urgent; throwing up the folded paper in front of his brother. Dean's apprehensive expression instantly became anguished. “And Henry died hoping we’d one day see this message. We owe them to at least check it out.” 

Suddenly Castiel mild-mannerly shuffled in front of the Winchesters; his lapses blue eyes glazed grouchily.

“I’ll go to the bunker,” he insisted gruffly. “You four already have your hands full with the recruitment. And Sam may be onto something; whatever Henry wanted you to find in his letter must be significant. But I’ll need a vehicle.”

“There’s a spare 71’ Buick GSX with tinted windows I stashed in the storage unit for emergencies.” Richie enumerated imperturbably at the trenched-coated angel; tugging on his cufflinks. “And the keys are in the overhead. You can take that.”

Castiel gloomily assent the vampire. “That would unequivocally make things more manageable.”

“I don’t know Cass,” Dean protested; clamping his hand on the angel’s shoulder. “Going solo might not be a smart move. What if you run into Willet again? You know what that son of a bitch is capable of.”

Rigorously Santanico trudged forward and stood next to Castiel. “Then I’ll go with him. It’s the least I can do for healing my wounds.”

Dean craned his neck over the culebra woman noticing the Gecko brothers silently revolting in the background. It’d been pretty apparent to him that they didn’t favor Santanico’s assistance given her track record of disloyalty and muddled history with the ex-criminal duo. Still she was a super-being and a skilled fighter; to the Winchesters Santanico was an asset.

“I take it you want in on the team then,” He assessed; green eyes inspecting the sexy culebra woman’s armaments. When she gave an impassive nod, Dean leaned in closer and added spryly. “Here’s the thing sweetheart, I don’t trust you…but up until recently I didn’t trust Franklin and Bash over there either. Yet they proved me wrong. So because you kinda helped us kick a little vamp ass, I’m willing to give you the benefit of a doubt.”

“That’s all I want.” Santanico’s deep sensuous voice implored. “A chance to prove I’ve changed and my worth.”

“NO! No fucking way Bravado!” Seth belched as he and Richie stormed towards the other four individuals loitering. “You seriously want us to put our faith into the snake queen, after what she did?! Everything she touches gets burned. I wouldn’t trust her as far as I can throw her.”

“Hey that’s not what I’m doing and why don’t you cut the friggin sanctimonious crap Pacino,” Dean lectured pointing at the older Gecko brother; squaring his shoulders. “It wasn’t too long ago you and four-eyes were getting your chuckles outa kidnapping and grand theft. No one here is without guilt or blood on their hands. But far as I’m concerned everybody’s gotta a clean slate, okay. Cause at the end of the day we’re the only ones standing between these crypt-keeping asshats and the apocalypse.”

“I’m part of this fight now Seth.” Santanico gnashed her teeth. “Going up against Circulo Mortis, you’re going to need my help.”

Seth snorted grimacing at the bravado hunter. He couldn’t do it. The last thing he wanted was to work alongside the woman who ruined his life. And he’d never been able to get over what she’d put his family through; bailing on them when they needed her. No amount of teamwork was ever gonna redeem Santanico in the Geckos’ eyes. Never.

“Fine whatever; you do what you want,” he sneered; frowning at the beautiful culebra woman before shunning his gaze. “Just keep her the hell away from me.”

Dean sighed discontentedly as Sam gave Castiel Henry’s letter. Then the doe-eyed angel and Santanico departed from the group and headed out to the garage where the Buick was waiting untouched; leaving the band of brothers to sort out the rest of their plans. 

Scratching his hair, Dean spun around to Sam. “Alright well we better get cleaned up; ditch the phones, gaslight this place and hit the road cause it’s gonna be a long drive to Grantsburg.”

“You’re not gonna call him first?” Sam inquired; squinting at his older brother.

“You know Garth. Once you get the guy on the phone, he’ll gab your ear off.”

The taller shaggy hunter gave a half shrug; bottom lip overlapping the top of his mouth. Couldn’t dispute that.

Richie bobbed his head at the Winchesters; playfully slapping Seth’s shoulder. “Well brother, I guess that means we’re gonna fetch Mr. White-hat together in San Antonio.” 

“Not a chance.” Seth prickly derided; withdrawing from the culebra. 

Richie flinched, exhaustively caught off guard. Uh-oh that friction; there was that typical Seth Gecko pouty body language he recognized. And judging by the indignation in his usually suave voice, Seth still hadn’t forgiven him for lying about Cross. Blowing harsh air out his cheeks, the culebra put his hands on his hips; feeling the sudden need to gibe.

“Right, you’re still pissed at me for keeping you in the dark,” he chided patronizingly. “You know we don’t really have time for your little tantrums Seth, but if there’s something you need to get off your chest…then by all means let’s hear it.”

Seth’s aggravated taut dark eyes instantly seared through Richie’s pale glasses complexion.

“Richard has it even registered in that thick snake brain yet that you broke the Circle of Trust here; of which we specifically decided we weren’t gonna do anymore?” The older Gecko brother substantiated rancorously; motioning at his preternatural sibling. Forthwith Richie was compelled to silence as his sardonic expression faded into a melancholic stare. “You just don’t get it. I’m not pissed because you knew about some fucking fairy-tale that may or may not be bullshit. I’m pissed because you deliberately went behind my back once again. You didn’t trust me with the truth.”

The vampire anxiously scratched the back of his head formulating an excuse; sighing boorishly. An apathetic flare lingered in his voice.

“Don’t be dramatic. The only reason I didn’t tell you about it was because Walking Dead threatened to kill your stupid ass,” Richie rebuked defensively. “I thought I was protecting you!”

“What, by lying to me?!”

Gobsmacked, Richie opened his mouth but couldn’t force the words out. Not even a snappy comeback. He was too distracted watching Seth’s facial exterior go glacier. Perfect, gridlocked by sheer stubbornness. At this rate nothing was gonna penetrate those defenses. The vampire may as well have been conversing with a brick wall. And after a brief pause between the Gecko brothers, Seth finally loomed the kiss of death.

“Look we’re brothers…so by default we’re stuck working together in this thing,” he disclosed briskly; forwarding his palms at the culebra. “But I just…I can’t be around you right now Richard. Not now.”

Swallowing hard, the confident derisiveness instantly drained from Richie’s face; blue eyes dismal with lamentation as his whole body drooped. To the Winchesters he looked like little boy whose puppy just got shot. Normally Seth got over their petty disputes after some time; he’d cool off and they’d go back to normal. But this time it was different. Seth rejected him; purposely chose to shut him out in the cold. 

When Sam and Dean studied the tall, glasses Gecko they couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for him. Dean especially knew what it was like being at odds with Sam and it sucked. But sometimes taking a little break was the best medicine for sibling squabbles and surprisingly the bravado hunter didn’t mind working with the vampire. So after a reciprocal exchange of looks between the Winchesters, Dean benignantly approached Richie with a proposition; giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“You can ride with me,” He offered. “I wouldn’t mind meeting this Peacekeeper dude.”

Richie’s eyes widened at Dean with perplexity before returning to his usual devoid state. “Uh okay, sure.”

At the same time Sam’s towering fame walked up to Seth, awkwardly shrugging. “Then I guess…you and I are carpooling it all the way to Wisconsin?”

Seth nodded amicably; flicking a piece of viscera off his jacket with his fingers, grinning boastfully. “Yah; I am a little bit curious about Fido-boy; long as he ain’t interested in humping my leg.”

After the band of brothers reached a verdict on their preferred teams; they disbanded to clean themselves up, tossed the Geckos’ cell phones and rigged what was left of the compound with explosives. All of them couldn’t afford to take any chances in case Willet decided to resurrect Vamp Ops 2.0. Once their belongings and weapons were packed, Dean and Richie departed in the impala with Seth and Sam in the cougar following behind; detonating the bombs as their cars split off into northern and southern courses.  
________________________________________

Riverside General…

…Houston, Texas…

…5 months earlier…

Kate Fuller’s eyes snapped open as she erupted out of the bed; bloodcurdling scream hindering in her throat. Her matted brown hair tangled between her fingers as she clutched tightly. Flashes of pain, that scorching white hot sensation in her abdomen; it was still raw from Carlos’s bullets penetrating through her flesh. Kate remembered lying near the base of the well choking on her own blood; coppery, thick and suffocating while her body went into a cold shock. She was dying…with Scott and Richie by her side. Their lamented faces the last things she saw as light faded from her eyes before they closed forever.

Kate would’ve been permanently dead if it hadn’t been for Amaru taking possession of her body and imprisoning her soul. She could still hear the excruciating cries of all the demon queen’s victims pulsating throughout her mind. Pounding like a sledgehammer. Their faces, every last one of them haunted the young woman like relentless guilt-ridden phantoms. Was she dead? For a second Kate felt like she was drowning; vison blurry from either tear ducts or exhaustion. But she didn’t feel tired or hungry yet her heart was beating excitably fast. 

Imminently Kate Fuller’s perception began to clear making sense of her dull surroundings. She could see the shade of the tacky pea green walls. The slatted blinds were shut; below them was a row of wooden cupboards used for storing. Examining the rest of the accouterments she noticed the flat screen television hanging overhead; vacant of pictures. Turning to the right side of the bed was a heart monitor and next to it an IV poll dripping antibiotics. What?

Eyes downcast Kate perceived her clothes; a white cotton shirt she was now tugging on and a pair of blue scrubs. No shoes or socks. The young woman’s arms were tightly bound in gauze and dangling from one of her wrists was an ID bracelet; printed with Kate’s full name, date of birth and the title of the facility where she was recuperating:

Riverside General Hospital 

“I’m in a hospital? How did I get here…?” Kate’s timid voice trailed off in disbelief. “And…why am I still alive?”

Glancing over her shoulder she could see a long cord sticking out under her pillow; reaching for it Kate plucked up a ‘call button’. Left of the bed, she noticed two empty orange visitation chairs and on the mantel close by were a small vase of flowers and a ‘Get Well Soon’ card displaying a cute sick kitty image on it; probably from Scott. Scott! She just remembered her brother, maybe he brought her here. But where was he? Could Scott be with Seth and Richie Gecko? And where was the rest of the hospital staff? She couldn’t see anybody walking in the halls. Doctors, nurses, even the aids pushing those carts; they were all scarce to be seen. 

She was starting get the impression she was alone and it creeped her out. I have to go find Scott, she thought, or anyone. Promptly Kate dangled her legs over the edge of the bed and hopped off; shivering when her bare feet touched the ice cold surface of the tiled floor. BUUURRRRRR! Rubbing her shoulders Kate roamed towards the open door of the room and entered the main hallway. It was a ceaseless, eerie, green tinctured corridor of wooden doors and a string of vacant hospital beds pushed against the side. To Kate this place implied a tomb rather than a health clinic. Above the dingy lights fluctuated creating an even more sinister atmosphere. 

Quiet. Almost too quiet.

“Hello?” Kate called out; browsing the dreary scenery. She expected at least someone to come running; a nurse aid anyone. “Scott?”

No one answered. And the shadows seemed to enclose around Kate as she drifted further down the hall. Prickly hairs on the back of her neck began to stand on end. Get a grip of yourself Kate, she mentally scolded. Someone had to be lurking about in this place. THUMP! Kate clumsily banged into a laundry cart carrying dirty towels; stubbing her toe in the process yet receiving no jolt of pain. Odd. She could feel a cold floor on her skin but not physical pain? Not really a time to panic yet, there had to be an explanation. Perhaps the doctors here had her on some serious painkillers. 

All of sudden Kate felt a disturbing chill on the back of her neck followed by whispering voices…then WHOOSH! Whipping around on the spot, her long hair flapping in the gust of air; the young woman could’ve sworn she saw a shadow figure. It seemed to quickly move behind her then disappear around the corner. 

“S-Scott?” Kate crackled; her breath quickening. “Scott was that you?”

Again no answer. Kate began to feel like the Jim character in 28 Days Later. Damn that brother of hers; she should’ve never let him convince her to watch that awful horror movie. Her nerves were agitating but she fought to remain calm and rational. Licking her lips while brushing a strand of hair behind her ear the young woman continued down the archway; searching for any signs of life. Kate couldn’t have been the only person this entire hospital. That was just insane. Maybe Scott went to get something at the vending machine with Richie or Seth. Or maybe visiting hours were over and they’d gone home.

Either way Kate couldn’t stand this susceptibility of isolation. It was worse than being a prisoner in her own mind for almost a year. Inhaling sharply she turned the curve for the Nurse’s station. No surprise it was empty like everywhere else in this place. Not even a security guard stood around. Trudging towards the desk, Kate looked over hoping to see at least one staff worker. No one was there except a scattered pile of papers and files as well as the landline phone. Brilliant, that’s just what she needed. 

But just as Kate went to circle around for the phone another anomaly caught her awareness. She froze. Rotating in place the young woman squinted; someone was down another hallway crouching in the shadows with their back turned to her. Finally another person! Kate wanted to feel relieved yet as she hurried towards this individual an unexpected shiver ran down her spine. 

“H-hello?” she uttered, slowly approaching the patient. “Do you know where everyone is?” the person merely mumbled something indistinct that Kate couldn’t understand. It sounded as if it were in another dialect. “Who are you? What’s going on here?” 

Drawing nearer the girl realized it was a woman but she wasn’t wearing any hospital scrubs. In fact she wasn’t even dressed of this century. Straggly dark hair sagged over her face like a thick drapery; wearing what looked like an authentic indigenous grown displaying tribal markings on it. And it appeared that she was writing something on the floor. But the closer Kate got, the sooner she realized this woman was scribbling letters of an unrecognizable language in her own blood.

“E-excuse me?” Kate queried; voice trembling as she reached out her hand. “A-are you okay?”

Instantaneously the moment Kate’s fingers gently grazed the indigenous woman’s shoulder, she twisted around howling in a frightening rage. Kate’s green eyes widened overcome with shock; breathing rapid and shallow. The color instantly drained from her pale complexion at the ghastly sight of it. Instead of a human woman staring back at her it was a bloody skull with hollow sockets and flesh peeled clean away from bone. 

Kate screamed jumping backwards into the wall; palms slapped over her mouth. Watching in terror as the creature stood up and sprung at her. Right then she shut her eyes bracing herself for whatever this thing was about to do…then…nothing. Another chill of air swept across her cheek. Was it safe to look? Cautiously Kate reopened her eyes realizing the thing was gone. And the words the creature scribbled in blood had vanished. 

“Holy shit!” she panted; pressing her hand to her head. “What the heck was that?”

Suddenly an alluring sound broke through the brief silence; altogether mournful as it was beautiful like a nightingale embracing its valediction. A woman was singing. Her crooning yet powerful voice echoed throughout the labyrinth; bringing the halls back to life. Kate titled her head bewildered; eyes curiously darting side to side. That melancholy tune; she’s heard it before from somewhere…or someone. Eager to follow the voice, Kate crept back down the hall perpetually searching for the person it belonged to. Thoroughly listening to each haunting line in a verse:

 

“My breast it is as cold as clay,  
My breath is earthly strong;

And if you kiss my cold clay lips,  
Your days they won't be long.

How oft on yonder day, sweetheart.  
Where we were wont to walk,

The fairest flower that e'er I saw  
Has withered to a stalk…”

 

Surely enough clarity of the melody had registered to Kate and she could make out the lyrics to The Unquiet Grave; the very same song her grandmother would sometimes hum her to sleep with as a child. It was a depressing tune and yet she’d always been fond of it. To the point where Kate found herself quietly reciting the words in her head. Wrapping her arms around her body; she bit her bottom lip, swallowing back the anxiety. Should she feel an impending danger following the ornamenting voice? Kate wasn’t certain as it had lured her into a deserted office.

It was a normal enough space; book shelves, khaki walls with framed art pieces and a collage of medical awards neatly advertised. She eyed the large desk with its black leather chair positioned rearwards; situated at the far end of the room. Littered with a stack of files, a pencil holder; a table lamp drooping over the small picture frames and a golden name plate she didn’t recognize. 

Abruptly the business chair pivoted clockwise facing Kate; seating a stoical dark-skinned woman about mid to late thirties with midnight curly hair that touched her shoulders. Oddly enough she reminded Kate of a younger Whitney Houston meets Viola Davis type. Intimidating and aloof. She doesn’t look like a doctor, the girl thought acknowledging her wardrobe as the woman stood up straight; consisting of a bronze leather jacket, black top and jeans. And she was pretty tall too.

“Hello Kate,” the woman conveyed in a slightly southern tone nearly as vacant as her expression; somber eyes like deep wells. “It’s nice to see you again. Well…maybe not exactly nice.”  
Kate just goggled at her with cow-eyes.

“Who are you?” she catechized warily.

“I have many names…but you can call me Billie.”

Kate nodded but her ambiguity still dawdled. “And…how did you know my name?”

A lopsided grin spread to one side of Billie’s face. 

“I know all my charges Kate, as I am a reaper,” she replied; leaning forward pressing her palms against the desk surface. “However…you and I have already been formally introduced on a previous occasion.”

Kate’s arms unraveled from her body; falling to her sides.

“Reaper…like the Grim Reaper?” she prodded; arching her brows. 

The woman acceded. “More like one of many. Reapers aren’t limited to just one person; not with multitudinous of souls to cross over.”

“But I thought…the Grim Reaper was supposed to be a skeleton in a hooded robe carrying a scythe.”

Billie’s piercing black eyes narrowed on Kate. 

“A foolish misinterpretation,” she icily mused. “Although our true forms can be quite…mortifying depending on how you look at it; this is why we prefer to take on a human visage. You could say it helps to ease the person into the process of moving towards the light.” 

“You mean like…going to heaven?”

“Or the alternative; it depends on the soul.” 

Kate’s face screwed up; backpedalling. “Hold on, you said we’ve met already?”

Billie paused briefly searching the girl’s face then added. “I was there that night you were shot.” 

Despite all this unnerving information the girl couldn’t allow herself to believe it. Her faith had always been tested. She’d seen horrors no ordinary person should ever bear witness to. And Kate recollected that Amaru used to torcher her with her own memories; warp reality. Made her think things happened or didn’t until she couldn’t accept what was real anymore. Perhaps this was the reason for Kate’s resistance; she felt the demon queen was taunting her again just as she’d done for a year.

“That’s impossible,” Kate revolted; scrutinizing the woman. “I think I would remember meeting a reaper.”

Billie propelled herself from the desk and approached Kate; demeanor cold yet unreadable. This caused the girl to feel a state of foreboding emotions provoking her to disengage from the woman. 

“Well you wouldn’t have remembered that moment as I made sure you wouldn’t.” Billie admitted; folding her arms. “It can be an overwhelming experience for you humans; especially if you’re brought back.”

“If you were there…then why didn’t I pass on?” Kate interrogated. 

“I was assigned to take your soul, but you resisted. You’d become so full of darkness and pain. I couldn’t help you Kate. And that’s when Amaru seized the opportunity to use the Santa Sangre to her advantage; taking possession of your body when that blood resurrected you.”

Kate’s baffled complexion dropped dejectedly. “So I was supposed to die that night.”

“Not…necessarily…” Billie shook her head; receiving an awestruck expression from the girl. “Sometimes death isn’t the end but a new beginning; your friend Richie and your brother Scott should know that better than anyone. There’s always a reason for everything Kate. And in your case fate obviously felt very compelled step in.”

“Why?”

Billie leaned against the window sill; face void of emotion as her ankles tied in front of her.

“You are a very peculiar specimen Kate Fuller,” she attested. “I don’t think you realize the gravity of your situation.”

The young woman gimleted at the reaper running her palms up her face; raking fingers through her tangled brown hair. Overwhelmed was an understatement. All of Kate’s emotions were spiraling uncontrollably until finally she’d befallen into instant despair. And right then Billie’s presence unsettled her; evoking a disheartened question.

“Am I…dead?” Kate asked; her green eyes saturnine. “Is that why you’re here?”

The reaper gave her a vague headshake. “No…not yet anyway.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Don’t you remember what happened?” Billie enigmatically canvassed. 

Kate blew harsh air out her cheeks; so frustrated with all these questions she just wanted punch something. Couldn’t this reaper woman give her at least one straight forward answer? That’s what it hit her observing the bandages on her arms; the last thing she remembered. Amaru was preforming some ritual to restore her true form at that church in a deserted ghost town. It was to combine her blood with her bones. Kate recalled the blistering pain of a sharp blade slicing her wrists open; and then Scott’s frantic voice calling out to her before she blacked out. 

“I…remember…” Kate started apprehensively; pinching the gauze around her wrists with her fingers, wearing a tormented look. “She cut me…and I was bleeding to death… But then how did I…survive?”

Billie detached from the window sill and approached the disconsolate young woman; her steel expression softening. “You’re in a coma Kate; severe blood loss. And your heart just stopped.” Kate swallowed hard; fretfully gazing back into the reaper’s intensified black eyes which were now surveying their surroundings. “All this you see here before you is an illusion I concocted; to give you a familiarity while we have this discussion.”

“So…I’m not even in a real hospital?”

“You are,” Billie affirmed uninhibitedly. “This is just a projection of the real Riverside General within your mind.”

“Wait, then what about that thing…that woman I saw in the hall?” Kate griped poignantly; forehead crinkling as she pointed outside the door. “Was that just one of your projections too?”

Billie’s eyes widened; pursing her lips.

“No, unfortunately she is a soul of one of the thousand victims the nine lords sacrificed which created the Santa Sangre,” professed the reaper; ushering the girl to follow outside the office. Shortly after Kate and Billie stepped through the threshold and into the hallway, hundreds upon hundreds of transparent authentically dressed indigenous people flooded around them. Men, woman and children every one of them so grisly mutilated, the petrified girl heaved throwing her hand over her mouth. “When that blood, the demon used as a conduit, passed into your system…so did these remaining souls.”

“So you’re saying these spirits…” Kate drifted into her muddled thoughts and emotions; gazing up at the stolid reaper with glistening eyes. “…they’re all a part of me now?”

“Yes…this is why I’m here.”

Billie snapped her fingers then immediately both she and Kate transported to a vacant, dim lit lobby of the hospital. Not a person in sight except rows of empty orange chairs in the waiting room, the front desk where a receptionist would be seated, the fire extinguisher on the wall and a vending machine. Breathing a sigh of relief no ghosts had followed them; the young woman reviewed the bright EXIT sign above the doors in front of her before rotating back to Billie. 

“If you’re not here to…cross me over,” prodded the young woman; holding a fist to her chest. “What do you want with me?”

“As I said…you’re very particular case Kate,” the reaper intonated in a dispassionate voice. “In a way this just might be your lucky day; you get to decide your fate.”

Kate was taken aback; raising an eyebrow. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Unlike my usual charges I’m obligated to give you an ultimatum as you are…a critical key figure,” Billie asserted. “You can either leave this life behind now or…you can go back. It all depends on you.”

The young woman frowned suspiciously at the reaper; scratching her head. That’s it? There had to twist to this offer. Kate already died once and she was pretty sure there would be consequences no matter which decision she made. Reapers didn’t just show up to blatantly give people back their lives without an ulterior motive. 

“What’s the catch?” probed Kate stealing a quick glance at the exit; rubbing her right shoulder. 

A slight quirk tugged at Billie’s lips as shoved her hands into her jacket pockets; pacing back and forth opposite the skeptic girl.

“If you do decide to go back…you’ll never lead a normal life,” she dissuaded obscurely; her eyes piercing through Kate like daggers. “You’ll be different than you were before. Your life will be an interminable shroud of pain, misery and torment. And I can most definitely assure you that your suffering under Amaru was only a pinnacle compared to what you’ll endure should you return.” Tarrying in front of the abashed girl; the reaper mildly put her hands on her shoulders. “However…the gift you’ll be given is of colossal importance. Only one in a million people are chosen for this fate…and you are that favored candidate.” 

“So…I’m a vessel?”

The reaper woman nodded nonchalantly.

“When the Santa Sangre resurrected you; it appointed you to become the last source. The sacred blood that now flows through your veins is a very powerful potency; that which must be protected.”

Kate put both palms to her forehead; fingers splayed. “But you just said I could choose not to go back. What would happen to all those souls?”

“They would move on, same as you.” Billie confirmed.

“And if I don’t?”

“They’ll remain part of you and you’ll become a Psi; cursed to carry their burden of the second sight.”

Bowing her shoulders; the pale girl’s green eyes glinted with tears. Knowing that there could be a chance to see her parents again and leave behind the all the suffering; it was tempting. Kate didn’t want to be alone anymore. No more pain; no more. Gawping up at the reaper she felt a twinge of hope entwine with desolation.

“Will I get to be with my parents…if I go with you?”

“I’m sorry,” Billie removed her hands from the girl’s shoulders; staring vacantly into her eyes. “But that is something I can’t tell you.”

Kate beseeched; grimacing. “Why not?”

“That isn’t in my job description kid. I’m a reaper; my job is to cross over souls to wherever they’re supposed to go. But with you…it’s different because of your unique circumstances.”

Trembling Kate averted her tearful gaze from the reaper woman; nibbling on her cubicle. Chest beating profoundly. She was already miles from anything normal; orphaned, murdered, resurrected, possessed by a demon, forced to kill her father and a drifter to save her newly preternatural sibling well before her nineteenth birthday. What was normal anymore? And did she really deserve peace after all the carnage and destruction Amaru inflicted while using her body? Every time Kate shut her eyes she saw the demon queen’s victims; felt every single life she’d taken. 

No matter how much she wanted to be with her family again…there wasn’t any guarantee of it; not with the blood of innocents staining her hands. Not to mention it didn’t settle right with Kate to just…leave without atonement. And there were other things to consider, the people she loved; Scott, Richie and Seth. Could she really turn her back on them too? Richie especially; lately she’d been thinking about him a lot and she wanted to reconcile with him after the way they’d left things. The guilt over what Kate had said at the well was just eating away at her. Amaru’s torture of his mind at the asylum had only concreted her decision to see it through.

“What about Scott? Or Seth and Richie?” Kate budged the reaper; face conflicted. “If I leave…what will to happen to them?”

Billie waved her hand dismissively. 

“I can’t answer that either,” she bypassed sharply. “But I will say there’s a storm coming and they’re gonna have their hands full in the battles ahead. Your friends the Gecko brothers…” she paused half-smirking; slightly widening her eyes. “They’re destined for a much greater purpose in this world; far bigger than they realize.”

The young woman inclined her head. “Destined for what?”

The reaper didn’t respond and Kate took the hint. With all that in mind there really was only one choice to make. And the young woman knew her time on earth wasn’t finished. Sighing she tucked a lock of brown hair behind her ear and rubbed the wet substance from her eyes.

“I…I have to go back,” Kate assessed heavily; gaze dour. “I can’t leave them behind; they need me.”

Suddenly Billie’s face hardened. “Kate you do understand what you’re giving up once you leave through those doors? If you return you’ll always be in danger and in pain. There will be people out there who will do whatever it takes to possess your blood.” The reaper’s gaze went somber; sighing. “And you may not be seeing me for a very, very long time.”

Kate narrowed her eyes at the reaper; unscrewing her jaw.

“What do you mean I won’t be seeing you?” she queried. 

“Depending on if you manage to survive the long, hard road... Let’s just say that as a psi, you’ll have a prolonged resistance to aging normally.” Billie declared crucially; watching as the girl’s expression went from hesitant to flabbergast. “You see the mystic blood in that well did more than just revive you Kate…it changed you. It’s what’s keeping you alive…any ordinary person sitting in your position would’ve been dead by now.”

This notion immediately floored the young woman as her jaw practically dropped to her toes. What the hell? Putting a hand to her mouth, Kate endeavored to process the bombshell. She was sensible enough to comprehend a predictable twist in this whole thing; it wasn’t like getting patched up and going home. Kate was dead; Carlos had taken her life and then she was brought back by a magic well. Of course there’d be repercussions. She expected it; but nothing like this.

“So do you still wish to return?” Billie inquired despondently; folding her arms. 

Kate gave a hesitant nod; her eyes sorrowful saucers. “Yes…I need to go back.” Then she ambled from the reaper’s side and shuffled aimlessly towards the Exit. Stretching her arm out to press the bar handle, she quickly peered back at Billie. “Will I…remember any of this?”

“No, your ability will need a time period to manifest; otherwise you’ll be so overwhelmed you could run the risk of cardiac arrest,” Billie stated; the tone of her voice foreboding. “Think of yourself as a butterfly in its cocoon. So until then your memories of our conversation will need to be temporarily supressed.”

This concerned the girl. “For how long?”

Billie flashed a neutral grin; approaching Kate and putting a hand on her shoulder. 

“Have patience; it will all come to you when the time is right.”

But Kate was incredulous with Billie’s answer; dour gaze collapsing to the ground focused on her feet. Her heart in her throat and stomach in knots; she shut her eyelids. In the back of her mind Kate was terrified of the unknown. Of what she couldn’t see coming. Yet regardless accepted it; there were important reasons for going back; things left unsaid and undone. Thinking of her brother and the Geckos, she nervously licked her lips and faced the door. Before pushing on the handle; Billie called out to her for the final time.

“Oh, one last thing Kate Fuller and heed my words,” she warned the girl; expression severe. “Beware the Woman in Blood. She will be seeking you out soon enough. Only the Twins of Legend can protect you.”

Kate furrowed her brows. “Who’s that?”

“I’m not at liberty to say anymore, that’s just the message they wanted me to give you.”

“They?”

Billie pointed up at the ceiling and recognition dawned on Kate’s face. Someone high up must’ve been watching out for her after all. Perhaps her faith really was a blessing. All those years underestimated for being a ‘bible thumper’ as Richie liked to put it. Irony was almost too good to be true. 

With nothing else holding her back, Kate pressed the doors open releasing a brilliant bright white light which swallowed her up. More prevalent than the sun itself; almost blinding that she shielded her eyes with her hand. In the background Kate could hear Billie wishing her “Good luck”. And then a warm sensation afflicted her advancing forward; followed by a piercing hot pain coursing throughout her body. Huh? 

Over and over again Kate could feel a tight compression clamp repeatedly down on her chest; electrifying her organs. Sizzling her skin. It burned to the point where the blood in her veins was boiling. Instinctively Kate hugged herself; losing the strength in her legs. Up ahead she could see the light fading into darkness. Why does it hurt so much? Wrestling with all her strength to hold on; she let out an agonizing scream as though her insides were being mangled. 

Stop it you’re killing me! Kate’s mind was wailing; tears streaming down her face. Please stop it! But she couldn’t let the pain prevent her from getting back to her boys…back to Scott, Seth and Richie. Seeing their faces again it fortified her to will to fight, scratch and claw all the way to the surface. Just as she’d done under Amaru’s control. But then the ground abruptly disappeared beneath her feet; sending her freefalling into a black abyss. Endless…and until Kate could see it; that pillar…

*GASP!*

All of a sudden Kate Fuller’s eyes popped open in the emergency room; convulsing. Gasping for air like her head had been held underwater for too long. There were IVs in her arms and an oxygen mask over her face helping her breathe; she could hear people rapidly scurrying about the room talking quickly to one another. Gazing upward Kate noted eight blurry people in blue scrubs, surgical gloves and masks surrounding her bed; one of them holding defibrillator paddles. Mimicking a scene out of Grey’s Anatomy; all the monitors were barring off the charts in the background. 

“We got her!” a female doctor confirmed; looking back to the head surgeon. “All vitals are stabilized.”

“Thank god.” She heard an older male’s voice sounding relieved.

“Kate? Kate can you hear me?” the head surgeon called; shining a tiny flashlight in her eyes to check her pupils. “You’re gonna be alright.”

She only managed a drowsy nod before fainting against the gurney; head swimming as the antibiotics kicked in. Kate hated hospitals. The last time she was in one, Amaru massacred the entire staff. But this time was different, she felt safer more secure; comfortable enough to relax. As the doctors removed the oxygen mask, a gust of fresh air filled her lungs. It felt good to breathe again.

Kate was alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my readers! I apologize fore the even longer delay but I've been extremely busy these past couple months so I've decided to make this an annul monthly thing. Anyway lets get down to it:
> 
> First I do not own the rights or lyrics to the song The Unquiet Grave"
> 
> Second I debated long and hard about whether or not I wanted to include Santanico into the story as I just couldn't stand her character on Dusk. However I did like her chemistry with Seth on the show and I felt there was an untapped potential story there that the writers just didn't bother exploring. So I decided to give her another chance and did a full recon while still trying to remain somewhat true to who Santanico is. The only way for me to write her was that she really needed to redeem herself after all the crap she did to the Geckos and everything else. Something I felt the fdtd writers failed to do after S1 of the show. And by including Santanico now I was forced to do a rewrite of the planned plot which means Vanessa Styles will no longer be in the story. I just couldn't find a proper place to introduce her without it being too silly or dragging. But for those that were hoping for Vanessa to appear fear not, I just may include her in future installments of my epic SPN/Dusk saga. 
> 
> And finally Billie; I had so much trouble figuring out who Kate was gonna meet in her coma. I knew I wanted it to be a reaper or some type of supernatural entity. So when the character was revived in SPN season 13 as the new Death; well all the pieces kinda fell together lol. Of course when Kate meets Billie in this chapter she's a reaper and obviously this takes place before Castiel *SPOILER* kills her in the SPN series. So the question remains, will Billie be the post-Death or reaper version of the character the next time she pops up? Guess you'll have to wait and see. 
> 
> Stay tuned for the return of Garth Fitzgerald IIV and Peacekeeper Ranger Gonzalez joining the fight. Merry Christmas to all of you and thank you so much for your patience!

**Author's Note:**

> Next up the introduction of the Winchesters and Gecko brothers [with some surprise character appearances] so stay tuned ;)


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